My friends, the most beautiful poems

Written with sweet words are surprisingly new

My saying is not to bugger neither Alfred de Musset

Nor Lamartine, nor Senghor, nor Vilaire, nor Victor Hugo

Nor Catullus, nor Plautus, nor Diop, nor Maya Angelou

They did their things and time centuries ago

It's another season, another eternal

For the newly emerging poets

Who use their pens as whips.

We fully understand that some poems

Are like good and delicious wines

Okay, the beauty and the greenery of the pines

Are perpetual and natural. The wind sows

Sometimes from west to east or from south to north

The lukewarm, hot, cool and cold air, without remorse

Young poets are as great as the old ones

Which the whole world worships with envious whims.

Copyright © January 2022, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved

Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.