An homage to the mystic monarchs of words. (Form: Free Verse) Stormy's Poetry Winner! |
Poets and Paupers The stars shine in the firmament; each bearing a name: Shakespeare, Percy, Frost, Whitman, Poe ... and the newest, Angelou. These mystic monarchs of words inspire, soothe, entertain, and share visions of worlds seen only through their eyes. Their poetic creations on canvas or hewn from granite would be on altars of gold. Instead, they are engraved in the hearts, on the souls, of those who have shared their written words, have tasted the sweetness the bitterness of their swirling emotions, have glimpsed the fury of their visions, have traveled within their realms. I stare at the page and, raising my pen, I trace the ethereal images of their brightness. The ink flows and dries as I seek to find my own light. I do not seek, nor shall a single copper come to my purse and yet ... I am rich from the inheritance they have been bequeathed, asking only my fidelity in return. Long live the monarchs. An entry for the January round of "Stormy's poetry newsletter & contest" Prompt Words: poets, swirling, words, fury, written, flowing, dries, ink Form: Vers Libre Line Limit: None Line Count: 38 |