Every five years or so
since you were a boy,
a slender book of
maybe a dozen poems
gently human, like
a summer seashore
lapping at the heart,
leaving washed bright pebbles
like jewels
for each five years
a quiet poet, bright-eyed
with an inner smile
has walked around unnoticed
waiting for a poem to come to him
and yet
leaving the air around him clean
like a walk by the sea-shore
cleansed by the listening sight
of a world full of unwritten poems
Well, at least it didn't take this gentleman 72 YEARS to find his poetry! ! : -) A sweet and gentle piece of writing with some cracking lines, not least of which being the final two. See you tomorrow (assuming you've reminded me of the name of the hotel in time!) Smiling at you, Gina.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is just lovely, Michael. Your metaphors are remarkably refreshing -.