The Poets

The land was arid, barren bald.
Dust dry and dying on the orb.
The beggared farm hands
pinched and spent …moved on.

The poor illiterate couple wandered
here and there across the land.
In tired woods they gathered food.
And drank from dying rivers.

Anon a beckoning Cave appeared.
The couple entered in.
And there they stayed for several years…
Surviving by a thread.

The 15th of that springtime month,
became a newborn day.
And there before their opened eyes
The couple saw Arcadia.

The once crushed broken peons,
Who could neither write nor read,
Emerged from cavernous darkness….
as Poets full of verse.

And as the land began to green,
And trees began to breath.
The Poets went from gate to post,
Reciting poetry.

Kristine Byrne 22 April. 2020

- Image Kristine Byrne