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Poem By Valsa George

Wielding a tool, mighty and spiky
Mightier than either the sword or rod
He reigns, monarch in Fancy's domain
Sketching life in fanciful colour and mode

Which with pain and strife fraught
Or bright with gaiety and grace
In finer yarn than the gossamer thread
On the fabric of words in befitting verse

He steals away from the noisy crowd
In to the stillness of the cloistered cell
To dwell with Fancy's mystic charms
Weaving downy dreams at will

He recounts forgotten tales of yore
Of bloody battles won and lost,
Of lovers united, amour defiled,
Conjuring memories from abysmal past

He hearkens to the moans of lovelorn souls
And sings of beauty in ditties fine
Triggering sparks into flames grow
In umpteen hearts that pine and whine

Babbling with the brook rushing swift,
Racing with the deer loping past,
He wanders into mysterious woods
Where flowers, their richest odours cast

His ears intent on the song of birds
That comes floating from the far off groves
And the whirr of cicadas on the bark of trees
Breaking the calm of twilight eves

Alone he saunters the stretching strands,
Watching virulent breakers in fury heave
Often his heart dancing with the tide
And swinging with the rhythm of rising wave

He feasts on the gleam of the auburn sun
And the speckled blue of the infinite skies
Watching the day dying in flame
And the night in a diadem of stars vies

All that's lovesome meets his eyes
And communes to him in profuse delight
Which he turns into rhyme and rhythm
For the whole of mankind to devour and digest

From his harp flow symphonies sweet
Songs of longing, love and lust
Of idyllic happiness, peace and bliss,
Fuelling hearts with vigorous zest

Though outlawed by the great sage of Greece,
Branding the bard, aberrant and a fool
Oft beneath the façade of his wayward thoughts,
Lie heaps of wisdom for the discerning soul.

User Rating: 4,9 / 5 ( 59 votes ) 183

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Comments (183)

Though outlawed by the great sage of Greece, Branding the bard, aberrant and a fool Oft beneath the façade of his wayward thoughts, Lie heaps of wisdom for the discerning soul.......impressive concluding. A brilliant poem on poets has been satutely delineated.
Alone he saunters the stretching strands/Watching virulent breakers in fury heave/Often his heart dancing with the tide/And swinging with the rhythm of rising wave......so pragmatic! Each line of this poem finds its essence! A great poem that I feel like reading every day dear madam! Work of art!
All that's lovesome meets his eyes And communes to him in profuse delight Which he turns into rhyme and rhythm For the whole of mankind to devour and digest Befitting lines to your poem.. Delightful work, Valsa. Congrats 10+
From his harp flow symphonies sweet Songs of longing, love and Of idyllic happiness, peace and bliss....These three lines I like most dear madam! My pleasure revisiting this wonderful poem of yours (Poetess Magadha)
Poet is mighty, poet is beauty and poet is duty. A poet has greater responsibility to do his duty and you have crystallized most of my notions about a poet beautifully. I have loved reading this poem and this has motivated my heart. Thank you for sharing...10++


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