Timid Is The Poet Poem by Charlotte Ballard
Timid Is The Poet
Timid is the poet
Who only scans a line-
Tripled spaced, collated
Outside the gentle breeze.
Double turn,
Each in its place -
Spill a little laughter,
Wipe a little face.
Dream in turn
Swatches of blue
Velvet rope -
Walking on red.
Tremble before speaking
To make the words squeak
Poetry is not for cowards
But for brigands and thieves.
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8/10/2026 2:17:06 PM # rel_20260806T081513Z_580e7f4
