Poem by Edward Smyth Jones (1881-1968)

Not Yet a Poet


    Aye! many a rhyme my pen has flown,
        In oblivion, all unknown;
    Still many more, perchance, I say,
        Float on in one unbroken lay -
    But ask me naught of where or when,
        Long as they ring in hearts of men!
    Dear friend, I say these words to you,
        Which through the ages will be true:
    Though I have power to combine
        These subtle rhymes of each sweet line -
    Yet, I shall never live to see,
        The title "POET" given me!



More information on Edward Smyth Jones

Poetry by Editorial Team The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 293 times
Written on 2021-01-27 at 00:10

Tags American 

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text

ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
That why I'm uncomfortable saying I'm a poet
Me I'm more cummfey saying I'm a verselaiter!
Ken D

josephus The PoetBay support member heart!