How nice to have a poet

How nice to have a poet

How nice it is to have a poet
A little peculiar gentleman-about-town
Fond holder of a walking-cane
And his mysterious muse

His saint-like figure
Confident gait small but snug abode
Agrees with our plan
We are very pleased indeed

He serves as the local oracle
A candle atop of a mountain
His inward-locked eyes
Are turned to for answers                                                                                       

When all else fails
See how gracefully how cordially
Dressed in black regalia
He follows suit

With his glass full
The poet is well
In a dim corner

Bevied by scarlet inspirations
He buries himself
In scrupulous study
The joys of heart

Sprinkled generously
With salt
Is his favourite theme
The poet really disappoints us

Our hope in this indifferent crank is spent
We shall leave him to what he cares most for
His daily elevation
To liquid heaven

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