Saturday, January 9, 2010

I am a Poet

Do not call me
A recluse
Even though I am
Loneliest in
A room full
Of people
The gift of gab
Was given
But not to me
I am most free
While indulging in
The smell of ink
The taste of pen
As I scribble
And think
And ponder
As I silently
Weigh and wonder
The questions and
Answers in
This thing called
Do not call me
A recluse
If I should prefer
To sit and muse…
I am as God
Made me
A lover
Of quiet and still
Of night
And moon-lit hill
Observing obscurely
The rules of
Blissfully tormented
Oh, I know it
But I was born
This way for
I am a

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

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