Is It Poetry
hide my worth
Language belies hidden value laboring
this tongue swollen in your valley of the mist.
Accomplishments unfold, sweet leafy mint,
peaked coalescing firmament, mountain dew.
Dropped from great heights your eye follows
masked gracious favor, humbled both cheeks.
Granting thus thine worth unto a beating heart
For Jack and Jill live, walled in humor now.
Blemish not a countenanced look, from you, 'it is.
imprisoned was the thorn and passion flame risen.
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
William Carlos Williams
(17 September 1883 – 4 March 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
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