Let the poet in me tell the world what I see,
Won't you enter my dream, join the flow of life's stream,
Make our world more a hummingbird's garden.
Muse's beak probe your heart, so you too play a part,
Bless us, share what you will, and then linger until
Your life's blood joins the ink in quill's feather.
May my verse also flow'r, honor poets each hour,
As the blossoms of rhyme serve to pollinate time
And the paths (we traverse)praise our pardon!
May our seasons too bless all that poets confess,
And the melodies born, God's will serve, not suborn,
Trusting Justice, His Love, both together.
Brian Johnston
7th of July 2018
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
With God's help, our poems beautify the world, just as the flowers that are pollinated with the aid of God's smallest bird, notwithstanding his disappearance for months on end, yet there comes a flowering to remind us he was here.