Array ( [sid] => 135665 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => The Poets Dream [time] => 2007-07-02 02:46:50 [hometext] => Humming along...dreaming along...be it a poem...be it a song? [bodytext] =>
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The poets bug has bitten me, I be called down to size.
The poets bug be strong for me and teach me now of wise.
For many who have passed before,
Left paper scratched upon the floor,
I dream the poets dream.

Remember they had pain and love that throbbed within their veins,
Remember that they scratched in ink the bitter, sad refrains.
Remember not the words but names,
I dream the poets dream.

I be here now on earths evolve,
The wisdoms in my words please solve.
For those who died with pen in hand,
Now written words have spread on land.
I dream the poets dream.

Do favour in our now , catch us here on land.
Wait not for time to pass, to read our blood stained hand.
Do each poet favour still in their generation.
Let them hear the praise, bring them to their station.
Let the poet know the poets dream. [comments] => 6 [counter] => 218 [topic] => 38 [informant] => needledancing [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 30 [ratings] => 6 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Tributes ) Your Poetry Dot Com - The Poets Dream


The Poets Dream
Date: Monday, 2nd July 2007 @ 02:46:50 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: needledancing

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The poets bug has bitten me, I be called down to size.
The poets bug be strong for me and teach me now of wise.
For many who have passed before,
Left paper scratched upon the floor,
I dream the poets dream.

Remember they had pain and love that throbbed within their veins,
Remember that they scratched in ink the bitter, sad refrains.
Remember not the words but names,
I dream the poets dream.

I be here now on earths evolve,
The wisdoms in my words please solve.
For those who died with pen in hand,
Now written words have spread on land.
I dream the poets dream.

Do favour in our now , catch us here on land.
Wait not for time to pass, to read our blood stained hand.
Do each poet favour still in their generation.
Let them hear the praise, bring them to their station.
Let the poet know the poets dream.

This poem is Copyright © needledancing


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