On Poetry - Poem by Reinhard Stobbe
A site that features poetry
is heaven to the poet,
the owl lives in a hollow tree
only the mice don't know it.
So if the owl would just recite
a poem now and then,
and in between swoop for a bite
I'd take my trusted pen
and write about the owl as well
as of the mice and vermin,
how squirrels open up a shell
I'd give you a big sermon.
But most of all I'd use the time
to sort the words, dear friends,
so you will listen to the rhyme
and like it (it depends) ,
I think the arts are better still
than all the science matters
though life itself, for poets will
quite often be in tatters.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You