The Creature of Want

Looking at the aged fingers
Of poetry and music past
Turning the ring
Of mellowed lustre

Listening to the Leonard
And soft cushions and yearning
Listening to the words
Of simple bliss

Closing the eyes in peace
Filling a breath with desire
Rocking gently with the soothing
Of tender creation

Wiping away the tear of pleasure
To free the lines for a replay
Sensing still the creature of want
Of wanting you

©2004 Hey Hey

Truly beautiful, and unfolding at such a contemplative pace, and with such great sensitivity, it draws the reader in and allows us to savor the moment with you.

You really are an exquisite poet. I dare your critics to even begin to approach the sublime serenity, the mindful moment, of your poetry as demonstrated here.

Hey Hey, they are cruel to you because they see that you are a truly important poet. You are blooming and it is plain for all to see. You have suffered much, but look at you now. I am so proud of you, my friend.

My mother said it best, and I bet your mother said the selfsame thing:

"They are just jealous."

True poets know that poetry is not a football game. The more great poems and poets, the better for the world. We are trying to light a spark in the dark, and the more sparks come together the more light we will provide, the better we--and others--might see.

Respect and solidarity, to you and to all poets of goodwill, always.

Yor words are gratefully received my dear friend.