The poetry books on the shelf
Feature all the poets I've known
Keats, Shelly, Bukowski, Shakespeare
Sexton, Byron, Plath, Neruda
And many others besides one another
Some pages gathering dust
There high upon the bookcase
My legion of inspiration
I've dipped into, feasted upon
Their words and lines
Found solace and education
Hoping beyond everything
To be inspired to write
The most beautiful of lines
Or the most tragic of lines
I am a poet in love with the craft
And desire poetry always
I see it in the mornings light
And the moon in the evening
I hear it in the birds song
And the crunch of Autumn leaves
Beneath my feet as I walk
I dream as others do
And to the ghosts of poets
And poetry I've read and heard
Inspire me sometime
Before I die
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem