I found a friend, in the end.
Who reads my work with patience;
Reads between the lines,
To understand the words, and their sense.
Kind suggestions, made from heart;
With honesty she plays; the readers’ part.
Small things a poet may ignore;
She goes right down, to the poem’s core.
And with patience, does repair;
All that’s amiss, and shows her care.
Readers like her are only a few
Who help you in a manner really true;
There is warmth in their critique;
There is divinity in their mystique.
They are the ones who help you construct
Your imaginative castles grand
They help, they walk; with you they stand.
They are miles away, though;
It’s sort of makes me sad.
My poems wouldn’t be what they are;
Without the value they add.
(Dedicated to all the readers, who spare time to read, suggest and encourage the poets.The word SHE is only coincidental)
Thanks Nikunj as I am one of your readers...you have a gold-polish in your hands for your poems I suppose...each one glittering in its way...thanks again
My poems wouldn't be what they are, flows a little smoother than 'won't be. Consider this only. It is filled with such warmth. Happy people make happy works. You have a talent to express what needs to be heard. DC
Yummmmmy! Very delicious. Mmmmmmm. Another honor. I think I inspired you some? You are writing and writing good. Smiles! :) Deborah Cromer
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a good tribute to the readers and who comments from heart....... well penned.........