Steve Hancock

The Songwriter - Poem by Steve Hancock

Some might say eccentric
Strumming potential strings
Searching for pure inspiration
The songs the crooner sings

His laughter comes in rhythm
His joy composes rhyme
His heartbeat is a metronome
That keeps a perfect time

His pain a vacant canvass
His tears a turning lathe
From which he sculptures music
On the unreplenished stave

His songs unnurtured babies
He cradles in his arms
Tainted with life’s misdemeanours
Adorned with lexicon charms

Some might say eccentric
If so then crown me king
Mine is that haunting melody
You can not help but sing

Comments about The Songwriter by Steve Hancock

  • Ann Beard (12/8/2007 12:56:00 PM)

    Poetry is music the more eccentric the more interesting. Very good. (Report)Reply

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  • Marilyn Lott (8/25/2007 3:25:00 PM)

    You have a very exciting style of writing. I'll be waiting for more!


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  • (8/25/2007 11:17:00 AM)

    Perfect rhyme and rhythm here for sure Steve- almost makes one want to sing along which as you rightly say these things so often do, engagingly.... t x (Report)Reply

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  • Trade Martin (8/25/2007 7:44:00 AM)

    Very nice, Steve....! ! ! Best, T.M.. (Report)Reply

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, August 25, 2007

Poem Edited: Thursday, March 31, 2011

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