To a poem, seldom wrote

The words are stuck

So often choke

And when the pen

Again find page

The hand is halt and still

To a poem, often quote

The words can run amuck

Without a stir evoke

Thus the words when

Worn and aged

Find a listless thrill

To a poem, tender spoke

A certain cord is struck

A tender heart thus awoke

To find a peaceful ken

Understand and thus assuage

And a heavy heart can fill

With skill can words be woven

Driven by a strong emotion

Poems only for desire

Cannot for love or wisdom inspire