Poetry, Uncategorized

The Writer’s Gift

When Victor scavenged on the graves
New life was born electric
When Hester threaded scarlet burns
It was beautifully eccentric
If Ishmael never took the chance
And set upon the sail
He’d never know the tragedy
Yet he’d never know the tale

When Plath drew dark and deep
I understood a soul in plight
When Winston snuck to see his love
I stepped out in the night
The scenes great Lewis sculpted bright
Were never seen before
How could imaginations touch them
If no one passed the wardrobe door?

When John had lost his sight
He gained a gaze beyond
As Atticus saw the plight
He risked to mend the wrongs
If Eugenia had to cross the line
To get her story through
I would like to hold my fame
With those who held it true

There is a special kinship
Which Carrol pledges from his star
If you seem caught in madness
The best ones usually are





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