(04 October 1943 / Germany)

A Poet Is A Unicorn

A poem is when it is born
a trifle like a unicorn.
It hovers in its growing stage
displays, perhaps a bit of rage
unbridled it can be and wet
just like a baby you have met
but what it really sets apart
from other godly works of art
it grows a horn perfectly suited
in which the poet's soul is rooted.
So when your inner thoughts feel torn
just think of your own unicorn.
And don't forget that all your words
have wings and fly about like birds
and comes the day the world should mourn
their poet was a unicorn.

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Comments (3)

it was a pleasure to read this, a real pleasure!
Very beautiful! ! ! ! I enjoyed it! !
Herbert this is just what I needed to hear today Im glad I found it and even more thanks for shareing Ive been gone for a while now Im back cliff