John F. McCullagh
If all my life was perfect,
and all right with the world.
My pen would suffer from disuse.
My parchment not unfurled.
For what fool indeed
would waste his time
scribbling down lines
When Dame Love beckons to the feast
and all the world was mine.
No, irritation is my muse
and I her slaving churl
who palpitates a bit of grit
until it is
John F. McCullagh's Other Poems
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (The Pearl by John F. McCullagh )
- Of You, Who Do Not Know Me, Stacy L. Mar
- The Wind Blowing Backwards, Stacy L. Mar
- Metrazol, Luke J. Holt
- Sliding Into Old Shoes, Stacy L. Mar
- Like Fallen Gods, Stacy L. Mar
- All We Are, Stacy L. Mar
- To John, Roger A. Rose
- Rarely seen, hasmukh amathalal
- The Shadow Parts of Me, Stacy L. Mar
- Earth Unhinged, Stacy L. Mar
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