Poor Poet's Scroll

"No sword
Of wrath her right arm whirl'd, [6]
But one poor poet's scroll, and with 'his' word
She shook the world." - Tennyson, 'The Poet'

I may not shake the world, but I do believe in the power of words.

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6. Silent and steadfast

My opened eyes captured by the bright new life.

A smoky scent surveying with godly gaze.

Whispering hope and guiding through evil strife,

your heart a beating dove, your mind a temple; sage.

When the boggy mires of despair crowd around,

lift me up, make me who I’m born to be.

You are my evergreen, solid, steadfast and sound,

Whilst others glance, your gaze solely on me.

 

My guardian angel; my second inner self,

ever in the shadows, treading with tender stealth.

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