Why Sit Alone Little Poet?

I've been a bad blogger lately, I hold my hands up to you who love my poetry and apologize. However, I have been busy, cooking things up for the future, my novel is currently in preparation to hit a few select agencies in the country in the hopes one will take on this poor poet so he can reach more people. I will strive to get something out when time presents itself. But for now, here's something from my collection that earned me a 1st in Poetry in Bangor University, year 1.

Why Sit Alone Little Poet?

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Why rest your feet alone timid poet?

The sun does burn harsh your small fantasies.

Kill them quick, darling, do be quaint and quit,

Maybe you have. Those feeble diseases

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Which bewitch your mind, your soft supple fingers.

Does shade not keep them deep cool as before?

Shake not your darling bends and breaks, bearers

Of Bangled wrists and bead bracelets. They bore

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The gents around town.  Lift yourself up, don’t cry

Your two fine friendly legs stop spirits sore

And your eyes which see the plain paved prairie

Betray thee, with those barred boards of your moor.

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As long as paths do wind, and grass does gleam

Follow the river and forget the stream.