The Poet - Poem by Michael Fischer
The summer spirit of the illustrious angel
warms the cold night of the northeast winter.
She wears a spring flower in her long golden hair
and her glow is as bright as an early autumn leaf.
She has a poetic soul;
one that’s deeply enriched
by her pipe dreams of eminent love and happiness.
Her virtuosic verses
are kindred to Paganani’s violin playing;
They can make the manliest of men cry
with the overwhelming beauty they possess.
With each passing poem,
she will gently massage your heart
and lay a tender kiss on it,
warming your insides like a log cabin fire place.
Her soft voice will put you on a ship,
that sail the seas of nirvana,
during which the evening sun
will set on the glistening waters.
After her reading,
you’ll feel rejuvenated,
like a child after its afternoon nap.
Maybe you’ll be inspired to put a pen to paper
and write an epic as well.
Comments about The Poet by Michael Fischer
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.