Alison Mary Dunn

Rookie (Scotland)

An Ode To A Poet - Poem by Alison Mary Dunn

If I move from this place then the rhyme will be lost
like the dreams when you move from the bed. All the lessons
we’ve learned between slumber and light are the truths, never making
the pages of knowing.

All we have are these caves living deep in our minds
Where potholes are many and where entities speak, on their own
in the dark. Here the hand has to steer very close to the soul
or it writes on regardless ever emptying out.

All these dreams, they’re for us to pass on when we die
so that others can read as they journey thereafter. Your words
lit up cities where I chose to roam. A much needed distraction,
one I’ve treasured so long.

Your mind softened the pain when I got stuck
When these caves heard my cries all alone in the dark
You lit paths for me there when the lights went out and you reached for
my hand when the rains came down

So while you are a poet who is still undead
and the clocks on the walls tick around my longing
Show me your pages that remain unread and bring light to these caves
where my soul is crawling.......


Comments about An Ode To A Poet by Alison Mary Dunn

  • (4/4/2008 7:44:00 PM)

    It is refreshing to come upon a poem written in anapaestic tetrameter and you use it to great emotional effect in this impassioned tribute to your poetic muse. You have also used some highly original images which really challenge the reader. You're right, poetry can lift us from the darkest place and make meaningful a journey over the sharpest stones. It's also a 'mark' to leave on the word when we've gone. Excellent poem. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ (Report)Reply

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  • Malini Kadir (4/1/2008 11:03:00 PM)

    Alison, this is a very creative work of yours..... (Report)Reply

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  • (3/25/2008 10:37:00 PM)

    Alison, this is a marvelous poem and I so enjoyed reading it. Thank you. (Report)Reply

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  • (3/24/2008 7:29:00 AM)

    The last few lines of your poem bear repeating:

    'So while you are a poet who is still undead
    and the clocks on the walls tick around my longing
    Show me your pages that remain unread
    and bring light to these caves where my soul is crawling...'

    s
    (Report)Reply

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  • (3/24/2008 6:49:00 AM)

    Warm and heartfelt tribute to living poets, who may withered soon as fallen leaves but whose deaths fertilize the tree of memories! Thank you for reminding, a 10.. (Report)Reply

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  • (3/24/2008 6:49:00 AM)

    good one..i also wrote on on same..... (Report)Reply

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Poem Submitted: Monday, March 24, 2008



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