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Posts Tagged ‘poet’

MY PERIPHERY

I have a pen in every room
And sometimes two or three
Because the poet in my soul
At times needs setting free

Whenever I am struck by muse
I jot it down in haste
Before another thought pops in
And one might go to waste

But it is pens I’m not without
No paper is in sight
So I use almost anything
When it is time to write

There’s notes I’ve made on magazines
On grocery bags and such
And toilet tissue’s not exempt
But truthfully, not too much

There’s notes on every box in sight
And on a pillow case
I even wrote above my knee . . .
I write where I find space

You’ll find these notes within my poems
Except the one on knee
I lost it in the shower stall
Which I did not foresee

For years that poet in my soul
Hid shyly deep within
But now with notes on everything
I wear that poet skin

And that is why I jot thoughts down . . .
To set that poet free
And use such muse that fits a poem
In my periphery

8/28/00 Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

4’th … Indiana NPD – 2000

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Setting the Poet Free

SETTING THE POET FREE

 

I have a pen in every room

And sometimes two or three

Because the poet in my soul

At times needs setting free

 

Whenever I am struck by muse

I jot it down in haste

Before another thought pops in

And one might go to waste

 

But it is pens I’m not without

No paper is in sight

So I use almost anything

When it is time to write

 

There’s notes on every box in sight

And on a pillow case

I even wrote above my knee…

I write where I find space

 

You’ll find these notes within my poems

Except the one on knee

I lost it in the shower stall

Which I did not foresee

 

For years that poet in my soul

Hid shyly deep within

But now with notes on everything

I wear that poet skin

 

And that is why I jot thoughts down …

To set that poet free

And use such muse that fits a poem

In my periphery

 

Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

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A Poet’s Heart

        A POET’S HEART

 

I gathered up dew-diamonds

From a silken-silver strand

And laid them on some moonbeam dust

Sprinkled in my hand.

 

I added gold the sun sent down

And a kiss the breezes blew,

Then put them in this little book —

That I might share with you.

 

2/3/01           Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

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