THE POET

[Cropduster]

THE POET

I'm not a saddler, won't build me a library,
not handy with tool nor with plough.
I'm no 'Mr Fix-it', no motor mechanic,
weren't blessed with the knack or 'know-how'.

My hands are not blistered, nor hardened by callous,
I'm not strong of arm or of back.
My skin is not leathered from time spent in sunlight
while walking the old beaten track.

For I am the poet, the writer who wrote you
the lyric that bursts into song
The piper is paid well to play you the music
It's my words that you sing along.

For I am the word-smith, the writer, the poet
I'm wearing my heart on my sleeve
I'm bleeding my soul to put words on a page
But I do not expect you to grieve

Let me make you smile, or perhaps make you laugh,
offend you, or cause you to think.
I'll paint you a picture without brush or oils
But with paper, with pen and with ink.

My time here is precious, I have but this one life
For me there's no heavenly choir
No God and no Devil, no reincarnation
No power that I would call 'higher'

So when I have passed on, my words will remain.
a reminder to those I hold dear.
My feelings and thoughts left indelibly etched;
the poet indeed was once here.

Copyright (c) Allan Cropper October 2015

[Bob Pacey]

Bloody well said Allan.

an enjoyable read

Bob

[Cropduster]

Thanks Bob

[Heather]

I enjoyed it too Allan. I guess we all like to leave something of ourselves behind and as writers we are lucky to be able to do that if we choose.

Heather

[Neville Briggs]

No power that I would call 'higher'

Didn't you get married recently ?

[Bob Pacey]

Good one Nev I like a great comeback.


Bob

I watched a guy and his wife ( Well I was more perving on her ) playing the pokies yesterday and he said I have to go and do something or other and left.

She continued to play for a little while then jagged a thousand dollar jackpot and then reached for her phone and then stopped before she dialled and looked my way and I said " I won't tell him if you don't "

I'll hold you to that she said then put the phone away and stuck the winnings in her purse.

I reckon most women have a Sly Kick as well as us blokes ? am I wrong ?

Bob

[Cropduster]

Good one, Neville.

And, Bob, I have no doubt my wife has her own stash squirrelled away somewhere. She is forever buying things that apparently were on sale for some ridiculously low price ($200 marked down to $5, for example). I have given up questioning and just smile when she arrives home with each new 'bargain'.

[r.magnay]

Great Allan. I must show it to a mate of mine, we were recently discussing music and lyrics, he stated that the person who writes the words should have very little credit for a song! I, of course, got quite defensive at that statement, I did concede that much of the modern music only requires a vocabulary of a dozen words for a complete repertoire of songs. In my argument I did mention blokes like Kris Kristofferson though....I didn't think of Allan Cropper...sorry...

[Cropduster]

Thanks Ross

As a youngster I was drawn to the songs of Elton John. Although the music was great, it was the lyrics of Bernie Taupin (the brown dirt cowboy to Elton John's Captain Fantastic) that always fascinated me. I doubt that Elton John would have been as successful without the extraordinary lyrics.

To be even mentioned in the same sentence as Kris Kristofferson is praise enough

[Catherine Lee]

Beautiful poem Allan; the world would be a very sad place without music and poetry. I agree with you about Elton John and Bernie Taupin too, and there are many other partnerships to which this could apply. Really enjoyed this poem.