I have a guide in poetry, I do!
A poet guide who sees me right and true.
No spirit he, so real. A friend in word,
meter and rhythm, things I find absurd.
The sonnet played to elegant finesse,
musical rhyme, to cheer and does impress
a darken heart as icy cold as mine,
the warm embrace, with words as rich as wine.
My poet guide he sooths my fears a treat,
a gentle voice to help me hear the beat.
A steady pace, so kind, his words are wise,
he laughs not at my hopeless poem tries.
To Jeff, my poetic totem, thank you friend,
my time is up, she’ll assess, poem end.
© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.
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