Forgotten Words Poem by Joseph Tanner

Learning the way to write,
I follow the masters of time,
Which we learn from school,
By writing what we know,
For it would not be true.

A simple line can tell you a story,
Seamus Heaney ‘Mid Term Break‘.
A four-foot box, a foot for every year,
So short, you feel his pain.

We all try to follow in what we know,
For we don't want to disappoint the ones we love.
In ‘Digging' Seamus Heaney wanted to follow,
Only to find he already does.
Between my fingers and my thumb
The squat pen rest
I'll dig with it.
The pen was his spade
.
In words, we find where we are lost,
I'm lost between love for my dad and for my life.

I take pen paper wherever I go,
When I'm troubled, I turn to my words to draw me a picture.
Somewhere the devil can't get me.

Where the Daffodils are fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance,
I can picture them now, though I've never seen them.
I know them to be true, they've been written
For we never will see the whole world or walk every path that is set,
We can only imagine and with that we need words.