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Open Poetry #14
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Joyce Johnson
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Member Rara Avis
since 2001-03-10
Posts 9912
Washington State

0 posted 2001-06-02 01:49 PM


Though flesh be weak, methinks the man is whole,
His thoughts in rhyming words this doth reveal,
For naught but death can take the poet's soul.

And he in health or sickness plays his role.
He speaks his verse with fervor one can feel.
His flesh is weak, words prove the man is whole.

And when his weakness takes its dreary toll,
He finds the will inside with which to deal.
For naught but death can take the poet's soul.

With keenest wit, his words are just as droll;
Ill health cannot defeat poetic zeal.
Though flesh is weak, the man within is whole.

Though illlness tries its best his breath to steal,
His head may bow, his weakened knees may kneel.
Though flesh be weak, methinks the man is whole;
For naught but death can take the poet's soul.

For Al.  By Joyce

© Copyright 2001 Joyce I Johnson - All Rights Reserved
Mysteria
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since 2001-03-07
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British Columbia, Canada
1 posted 2001-06-02 02:29 PM


How very true this is, and even in death does the poet live on through his or her words.  You penned this well, and with tenderness of soul.

~*~ Remember to tell someone today that you love them ~*~

Tiersdin
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since 2000-11-17
Posts 2364
east coast
2 posted 2001-06-02 02:33 PM


Nicely done, Joyce, enjoyed reading!

~Tier

Logan
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since 2001-05-28
Posts 1641
Arkansas
3 posted 2001-06-02 04:29 PM


A lovely tribute to the person and the soul of strength within..gentle smile
Irish Rose
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since 2000-04-06
Posts 10263

4 posted 2001-06-02 05:39 PM


This is almost a villanelle!  It's lovely.

Kathleen Blake

"When red-haired girls scamper like roses over the rain-green grass,
and the sun drips honey."
Laurie Lee


Joyce Johnson
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Member Rara Avis
since 2001-03-10
Posts 9912
Washington State
5 posted 2001-06-02 06:10 PM


Thanks everyone for reading and commenting.  It means so much.  Sometimes my poems whiz away without notice.  Yes, Irish Rose, we were practicing Villanelles when I wrote this.  Joyce
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