The Will Of The Poet - Poem by Leslie Alexis
The will of the poet, is one that
With zeal in his strides, travels
To the place of scorn… For how can
One describe the reeking stench of
Death, if he has never seen war?
The poet’s spirit is one that
Should wake early in the morning..
For how can one describe beauty,
If he has never seen the sunrise?
The tongue of the poet never
Says no… for how can one be versed.
If he refuses to be versatile…
Yet the poet should never say yes,
For how then, does he stand his own?
Every poet should have a garden.
For how can one describe sweet scents,
If he has never held a petal, or smelled the nectar?
And every poet should feel the bitter
Sting of the bee, for how can one
know love, or joy, if he has never felt pain?
Finally, the poet should take
Long walks by himself at night. For how
Can one describe infinity
If he is yet to begin counting the stars?
Copyright © 2008 Leslie Alexis
Comments about The Will Of The Poet by Leslie Alexis
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You