Image by Suus Wansink via Flickr

THE POET

A boy sits in a large sandbox, dreaming,

In sand, myriad pieces of fine grain,

His hands reach forth creating and scheming,

Creation comes forth built of mind and brain;

A boy sits at the big dining table,

Scattered erector set and its pieces,

Images cross his mind making able,

His ability to construct leases;

At front of the class his teacher does stand,

Having her students come up and spell words,

Learning the pathways of this new found land,

He soaks it in and dreams of clouds and birds;

At last, he’s grown and enters the world’s whirl,

To realize life and embrace it all,

Experience and soul, needed to curl,

The words and the meanings his mind shall call;

For all his life and training bring to him,

Those little word pieces which he calls gem.

PTR January 31, 2012