Richard Allen Beevor
The Poet's Lot - Poem by Richard Allen Beevor
Wish I had the hands of a plumber,
an electrician maybe
or even a drummer! !
Wish I could have been a beautician,
an expert gardener
or oh boy! a magician!
In these hands a surgeon's skill,
a five-star chef,
anything that could pay a bill.
So what am I, yep! a writer,
thank God it's a passion,
cos yer pockets just get lighter.
Of course, the likes of Rowling and King
have the magic that rake's it in
could I have writ the Lord of the Ring.
(hahaha hahaha ha)
So here I am a poet among so many,
now that requires passion,
looking for cash? you won't see any.
But we are kings of the page,
writing because we choose,
bringing out our love or rage.
We can wield a mighty sword,
draw masses in our sway,
deliver dreams to the lost with a word.
We'll never live in the marble hall,
we crouch our frame to pen and scroll,
breathing life into tales forever tall.
We are the dreamers both weary and wise,
giving birth to imaginations wonders,
casting pearls of wisdom before your eyes.
We are the poets lot,
what dreams may come,
Nevermore! and forget me not.
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