Poet and the Pen
I have seen poets pen every thought
and it makes no difference to me.
If it is the heart that speaks,
then truly, I am pleased as pleased is measured.
If it is the mind itself that speaketh,
this may be well stated,
but the heart that pens its thought
is worth a detailed thought of measure.
It weight surely must be as gold,
as a woman with thick passion so bold.
The poet and the pen,
cannot lie, nor therefore sin,
against his own heart.
A woman cannot lie to herself as well,
as if she does, she becomes bitter and stale.
Therefore let love and heart flow through this pen,
the pen of a poet, something short of kin.
Let my pen never become my own enemy,
this I pray,
I must keep myself, my thought, my deed,
in the poetical way of May
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