The Life of A Man of Letters
He occupied an important post grad chair
and from this lofty sphere is where
he spewed wisdom from his superior brain
which held more than any library could contain.
Recalling what he knew caused him little stress
for t'was like he stored it all on a dot-press
and many of his friends typed and collated, helped
put his thoughts into a form he'd earlier developed.
Most of his wisdom rebounded to his credit
his friends only typed; did not edit.
So with many a pen in hand, and some ink
the knowledge stacked up for him to think
Of even more things he wanted on his list,
Book III was so thick it almost broke his wrist!
The books grew so large he had to find ways
to make many facts in the trilogy stay
Tho some of the facts he wanted to tell
had to be shortened to a conjunctive gel
and that process did a bit wrinkle his brow,
tho he remained as tranquil as the calmest cow
Chewing its cud in a field, sating its appetite.
This thought caused him a desire to write
a note telling his wife that such a conjured cow-sight
on even his darkest day could his irritations smite.
Compiling all he'd created fit comfortably
on each separate sheet so neat,
the book into its own came.
Now he had only to give it a name.
Finished, typed and bound within a mere few weeks
and published before its wonders could leak
from loose lips timed for his opus to be complete
out of the mental soil he'd learned to trust,
Now he thrust onto the outer world
of jumbled thought his collected lifelong wisdom
and considered it as sustaining bread
to feed the inside of many an empty head.
April 10,2015
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Superb poem.....I mean the poem which inspired you to write such a wonderful poem......10++++