Author Or Poet?
A Alf Hutchison
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Author or Poet?
When I write my thought on paper,
Forbid that I should write free verse;
Author or Poet, what shall I be
Driver of hearse… or giver of life.
Authors writhing in anguished pain
Resurrecting rhyming verse again,
Doolittle said “I think she’s got it”
“Beam me up Scotty, into the rocket”
Things are improving, it’s started to gel
From now on in things have to fare well.
Balancing out, it’s started to rhyme,
Poets have done this since dawning of time.
But woe is me… what can I do,
To really impress the poet in you.
Paper is canvas, soft and serene,
Snow white flesh…uniquely clean;
Untouched it waits whilst I prepare,
With eyes transfixed in poet’s stare;
What juice will flow from brain to ink
What joy to bring, what odes to sing,
Contrasting words of black and pink,
When will the ‘word bee’ deliver it’s sting.
The question I ask… are you author or poet
The words a ball… what way do you throw it;
There are many skins on the proverbial cat;
Maybe, just maybe, I’ve shown you that.
Alf Hutchison
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