Poets And Poems

O, poems from all poets dear,

My gratitude I pencil here,

For happiness thou bringest me,

Rich comfort, light, tranquility.

When darkest clouds obscure my sky,

I seize some volume lying by,

And, turning find some helpful strain

Which brings my sunshine back again.

Then should I wish afar to roam,

While circumstances find me home,

I in my chair can lounge with ease,

And sail the balmy southern seas.

Or I can turn my listless eyes,

And view the soft Italian skies,

Or rest within the open arms

Of quaint New England’s        farms.

O, poems from each master’s hand!

Thou bearest out a purpose grand.

Our hearts may yearn, rejoice or bleed,

We have rich verses for each to read.

Aug. 8, ‘92