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Poets
are drawn to poetry
by some magnetic force
planets pulled toward the sun
an expression of their Self
lost souls in search of meaning
and fulfillment
watching words
dripping down the page like raindrops
each word a drop upon a window
listening to words
played
in arrangement
scored for the eye and ear
in the building
words bricked one by one
permanence to be remembered
in the joy of seeing ideas
conceived and then birthed
proud yet somewhat afraid
with the wonderment
when the poem complete
says what is in their heart
then the jewel on the crown
the signature
the sight of their name in print
a taste of personal fame
however brief
before the flame burns out.
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