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Open Poetry #13
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Auguste
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By the sea

0 posted 2001-04-20 04:02 PM


The Magic Pen

by Michael


As winter wrapped its cold
around his chest,
I’d often go
and sit with him,
say that he’d be fine.  
He knew better, as did I.  
Still,
that’s what you do, isn’t it?  

Days grew into weeks
and yet he could not recover.  
A poet, he would write late
into the night when all was quiet.  

Upon coming to visit
I’d often find him
asleep.  
On the table next to his bed
I’d see pages and pages
of how he’d spent the late hours.  
I would sit and read
the wonderful words he’d written,
marveling at how one so ill
was still capable
of finding
such beauty
to write about.  

I would hold his pen,
thinking there was some kind of magic
in it, hoping that my own poetry
would somehow improve if only
it was written
using his pen.  
Just fantasizing, I know.  
The real magic
was always in the sleeping man
next to me.  

One late afternoon
I came for another visit
and was met at the door
by his sister, Karen.  
He had passed away in the night.  
Karen said that he had wanted me
to have his poems.  

Entering his room
I gathered them up,
fighting back tears
as I did so.  
On the floor
next to the bed
was
the magic pen.  
I put it in my pocket,
knowing
that the magic had now left it.    

Proust-
"Love is space and time measured by the heart"

© Copyright 2001 Michael Auguste - All Rights Reserved
Sunshine
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Listening to every heart
1 posted 2001-04-20 04:31 PM


Somehow, Sir....a bit of that dust of magic still lingers,

for you finger the pen well.

Just A Woman
Senior Member
since 2001-03-10
Posts 507

2 posted 2001-04-20 04:42 PM


This is so touching......spoken with a gentleness.  Beautifully done.  I truly enjoyed it.



"I can't remember if I'm the good twin or the evil one."

rosepetals25
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PA
3 posted 2001-04-20 04:54 PM


Michael,

      This is so softly written.  You have your own kind of magic.. and it shows in abundance.

TaraB

suthern
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Louisiana
4 posted 2001-04-20 05:29 PM


This is beautiful... I'd bet he would think that pen still carries magic when in your hands. *S* Well done!
Martie
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since 1999-09-21
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California
5 posted 2001-04-20 06:24 PM


Michael--Even if the pen is not magic...the story certainly is...and I was captured by the thought of it.  I really enjoyed reading this, my friend.
Greeneyes
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In Your Poetic Mind
6 posted 2001-04-20 07:34 PM


such a tender write from you, beautiful Michael...


Lauren~

***

"Within you I lose myself
Without you I find myself
Wanting to be lost again."
-Unknown



Joyce Johnson
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Washington State
7 posted 2001-04-20 07:37 PM


Yes, this is so real and touching.  Joyce
Balladeer
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8 posted 2001-04-20 07:47 PM


Michael, these words are delicate enough to float above the page...this is VERY well presented...
walker
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since 2001-02-11
Posts 2240
Florida
9 posted 2001-04-20 07:58 PM


Very touching, great poem!
Marge Tindal
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Florida's Foreverly Shores
10 posted 2001-04-20 09:37 PM


Michael~
You've certainly turned your 'magic' with this one.

You cloak a story in the most delicate ink~
Well done, poet.
~*Marge*~

~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~
noles1@totcon.com


Sami
Junior Member
since 2001-04-08
Posts 49
Ontario, Canada
11 posted 2001-04-20 09:38 PM


your poems are always so beautiful Michael, and this one is no exception  
~Sami~

'Sometimes we think it's holding on that makes us strong, but sometimes it's letting go' ~~Sam Ewing

elizabeth anne
Member
since 2001-03-29
Posts 83

12 posted 2001-04-20 10:07 PM


And this is magic...your talent for words is amazing sweet Michael..

Elizabeth Anne

Sunnyone
Member Ascendant
since 2000-07-06
Posts 5334
Staffordshire, England
13 posted 2001-04-20 10:40 PM


Michael,
As far as I'm concerned, the magic will be forever in your pen......it flows like a satin river of enchantment, every time you write...carrying your readers along, on a magic journey.  Keep writing, Michael!!!


Live...Love...Be grateful for both!!
  
    

[This message has been edited by Sunnyone (edited 04-20-2001).]

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