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!

 

 

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

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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
2021-01-27


josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
Brilliant!
2021-01-27