The Poet's Poem Poem by Eric Cockrell

the poet's poem,
the part of his body,
most precious of all....
he cant live without.

boxed up and wrapped,
presented as a gift
to the passing stranger
whose lips a 'quiver!

in word, in paint,
in carpenter fashion....
built as if a home
for the orphaned soul...

or potatoes and milk,
laid out on the table,
for the guests of both
this world and that!

or a blanket given
on some lonesome corner,
to the cold and shivering
face you cannot remember....

or a man on a cross,
misunderstood, maligned....
showing by action,
calling for action....

the poet's poem,
no charge other than
the price demanded by mirror,
the echo of your heart!