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A Poem’s Way
by JD Byrd

A poem can find its way
with thoughts softly falling.
Nudging words into play,
a soul to souls, calling.

Words drift from dream’s realm,
all silently singing.
A poet at the helm
guides each to its meaning.

A poem can rise by force
from terror or from dread,
It can take its own course,
demanding to be read.

So great, you know it is,
when, in spite of his pride,
the learned poet is
just along for the ride.







 

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