Caricamento in corso...
A Naiad or Hylas with a Nymph, by John William Waterhouse
Robert L. Martin

Poet’s Paradise

So near but far away, a cherished island,
a paradise in the mind and soul,
a place that can be touched and felt,
a place encased inside cerebral fences
with pent up revelations to be found
packed up inside a treasure chest,
a coffer with valuables to be found
like a prospector’s gold or poet’s clarity,
 
a finding of a word to release the tears,
massage the heart, elevate the esteem,
give him wings to fly away into deep fields
where poets and the Gods mingle together,
conversing in a language of higher knowledge,
finding truths about him and the skies,
keeping him suspended above the earth
while he flutters his wings or sits on a cloud,
 
putting a pen in his hand and
dictating what to write,
keeping his mind in their keeping,
then releasing it back to him again
for him call his own,
filling up his mind with words from the paradise,
from the pure waters falling,
the birds singing,
the apples still attached to the stem to the tree,
the air permeated by love and harmony
and wisdom being verbalized into sonnets
for him to put on the paper;
thus, shall be him equipped to
write a sonnet to his beloved.

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