I am not married to the Muse in me!
My pleasant past-time is Poesy now;
My second love in whom I delve freely,
And will achieve soon dizzy heights somehow.
My computer-like brain has many words,
That flow in an automatic fashion;
I waste not time with the rest of the herds;
I think a lot with logic and reason.
My heart is tending nearer to my God,
Who gave talent new called Poetry;
In all my work, I’ve tried to praise the Lord;
My labor will be rewarded surely.
Like mist, it came and settled as dew-drops,
Reflecting life and world, giving men props.
6-18-2001
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem