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Welcome
You have just found yourself entangled within a web of poetry. Sit back and enjoy yourself as you get caught up in a world of rhythm and rhyme. Oh, one more thing! Please SIGN my guestbook so I can know who came calling. Thank you!
Silken words spun, like no spider can......
The above line truly describes the talented poet I wrote a poem for. He shared so much of his remarkable talent with me and I was very honored to call him My Friend. I went onward with this poem and had it published in the fall of 1997 but unfortunately, Les (Poet) seems to have vanished from this earth. The loss of his friendship saddens me and not knowing whether he is dead or alive has been very hard. I hereby dedicate "The Poet" to Les Sdrowym and to all those who have experienced the unexplained loss of a dear friend.
The Poet
A chance meeting right from the start,
How very quickly he did steal my heart.
Mesmerized by his beautiful rhyme,
Shall he be condemned for this crime.
Lo and behold, such words of passion,
He struck hard with little compassion.
Strangled by emotion, so hard to swallow,
Deep into his realm, I must now follow.
I have bared my soul, letting him see,
Into my mind, the poet within me.
With trembling hands and silent tears,
Now rhyming to him, my inner fears.
Oh, how my heart does now race,
Conquered by this man with no face.
Captivated, my heart now does bleed,
My hunger grows, longing for a feed.
Silken words spun, like no spider can,
Seeing only the verse and not the man.
Trapped, I am caught up in his rhyme,
Shall he be condemned for this crime.
Copyright © 1997 B. J. Covington
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Copyright © 1998,1999 Belda J. Covington
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