Because it's Beautiful



New kid on the block,
my English comprehension
at most seventy-percent,
new eyes on me--I felt the tension.

The librarian smiled at us,
a Shel Silverstein in her hand,
what was her name? I don't remember,
but her voice rasped like sand.

When she read though,
I heard not a coarse voice,
she went high and low,
smooth and soft with poise.

My English was terrible,
so I closed my eyes to feel,
the beauty, the melody,
the words that made everything surreal.

I not only heard but saw
the poems that were being told.
I could see the cat's paw
and smell the roses being sold.

I write because hearing poems out loud
is more than beautiful.
It's outside reality--up in the cloud,
nothing can be more wonderful.

I want to hear my own work
being spread by children everywhere,
maybe those joyous hearts will spring
when it's music, not words they hear.



that was good though.

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741