The Poet – Part One

This is taken from a short story that I wrote back in 2004. It is the story of a poet who fights evil through words. I have had much criticism, both good and bad but have decided not to change it. This is the first time that I have published it pubically so I hope you like it and of course your comments are welcomed.


The Poet meets a traveller and tells his story.

“My rhymes tell of love and laughter
Virgin love from Cupid’s bow
Love that lasts forever after
Love that comes and love that goes
My words give life to those who hunger
For the one to bring the kiss
That they live and dream and wish for
The kiss that those without love miss
My rhymes tell of children playing
Innocently as they do
Until the world with her desires
Corrupt the child and turn them cruel
For children are all God’s creatures
Sadly none are born with wings
So on earth they must remain
Until the Satan takes them in
My rhymes warn of all these dangers
My pen flows with only truth
Of the past and of the future
Rhymes of fresh and rotten fruit
To reach my rhymes
You must have traveled
Just a little to comprehend
For I have seen the world’s four corners
And have journeyed to its end
From the ancient seven wonders
That existed long ago
To the mounts of the great Olympus
That myths and legends
Speak boldly so
I have seen and I have written
Of the loves and all the wars
Of the land when summers ended
Where iced rivers flow no more
Seas of blue surrounding islands
Beaches filled with bended palms
When the sea was more than angry
And forgot how to be calm
My rhymes tell of everyday
Trials and tribulations of my fellow man
Told in words with no maudlin
True to life on solid ground
Even though some flights of fancy
Have raised me to the clouds above
Where I could eavesdrop on the eagle
Whilst writing rhymes of turtledoves
And too my rhymes speak of courage
Under fire when all is lost
Giving tips on overcoming
Working for the underdog
I write of colours
Furious rainbows
Beauty that is almost impossible to describe
Gates of heaven
And walking steps
That lead to Eden and paradise
Time and space
No space for time
Ever rushing to and fro
I write of wanting to reach somewhere
Or no particular place to go
I write in rhyme and sometimes rhythm
For our lives are rhythm filled
We watch and wait whilst tapping feet
Our lives revolve upon treadmills
So music often fills my rhyme
And describes the way I feel
Whilst placing modern quill to parchment
I am bound to get my thrill
From melodic sounds and tones
Soothing the most savage breasts
My rhymes can pacify
Like lullabies put hearts to rest
And intriguing they are too
Drawing strangers to my side
So that they may gain a taste
And share in this world of mine
You see my dear sir
Grey you were
Before you sat upon this baked chair
Look at your hands
They are grey no more
There is colour in your hair
Your shirt is now a shade of blue
And matches sky as do your eyes
The sun still shines the sky’s not grey
So ask me why this is the way
As if by magic or hypnotism
You sit aghast at the feat
With mouth agape
Yet no sound comes
From behind your now white teeth
Your whitened jeans sit on beige shoes
A miracle I’m afraid not
You asked me
Of what I wrote about
I explained told you the lot
Except the part that is my favourite
You see my rhymes are full of life
And all they touch are given life too
That’s what makes me want to write
My rhymes fill darkened skies with starlight
Open flowers to full bloom
Rhymes I write can take you to the
Brighter side of a lonely moon
Whatever you wish to find in your life
My rhymes give but also take
Give hope and courage for the future
Take away the hurt and pain
So stranger now you know the secret
It was not you who sought me out
My rhymes spied you and heard your troubles
Of a life of pain and doubt
They have called you to relieve you
Of the guilt and make you clean
Live the words of rhyme that you hear
Live the words fulfill your dreams.”

And with that the stranger rose
Looked one more time at his freshened self
Then at me smiled
This time sweetly
Oblivious to all else
I watched him wander this time no meander
Off on his continued quest
Hoping he would heed the message
Knowing he was newly blessed
But my words were not really secret
The reason why they worked so well
Is because I am a poet
With a story I must tell.