The Statue Raised

were but we not so vain in our relative inconsequentiality

The Statue Raised                                    

 

The poet bared his soul-espoused in flowery verse,

Did light in those he reached emotions flame,

Most ordinary men-such speech had never heard,

With great acclaim his statue raised in fame.

 

A simple gardener-awed so by those words,

Thought humbly-no such gift alike had he,

So offered but the little he could sow,

And planted there his few remaining seeds.

 

Now long the statue ‘s weathered down to dust,

And all the flowery words dissolved away,

Egypt, Greece or Rome no longer trust,

Wise words or prose, the poems of yesterday.

 

As these forgotten worlds fade in the past,

Their statues would not crumble if they could,

Be like the simple gardener’s gift to last,

With all else gone was just the trees still stood.

 

And hence when poets seek to pine or moon,

Or find an inspiration may inflame,

The simple things in life are turned to soon,

Inspire such men to rise to great acclaim!

 

Rikkevi Rue copyright  2010 all rights reserved

Author's Note

no restrictions...let rip!

Reviews

[NoneOfYourBusiness akaK..]

a thoughtful bow to the masters of the classic forms who could make a pollen pod a magikal entity~