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My Dear Poet May 2023
Maybe, all we need to do
is put our pens down
The poets painted

Maybe, all we need to do
is place our drums away
The drummers danced

Maybe, all we need to do
is lay our shoes aside
The dancers wrote

Maybe, all we need to do
is return our books back
The writers sang

Maybe, all we need to do
is keep doing what we do
The king cried
Andrew M Bell Feb 2015
You should practise joy more often,
it becomes you
and the radiance in your eyes
when you receive what others take for granted
is, for me, the greatest gift
and the deepest sorrow.
For you should not have to live on the crumbs
and these small kindnesses are your due,
what you deserve
not what you should have to crave.
I cannot understand how one so giving of her love
has received so little in return.
So, like a beautiful antique bureau that has been moved
too many times by careless owners,
your burnished mahogany heart
has been chipped and scarred and
my cargoes of love often find anchor in
a harbour of doubt.
My words may fall short of your hesitant ear but
perhaps your mouth believes my kisses,
your body believes my arms
and in my eyes can you see how your joy
begets my joy?
Copyright Andrew M. Bell

— The End —