The unpaid poet pottered on, <br />Perusing pleasant dreams, <br />Perchance, when inspiration shone, <br />Perceiving precious themes... <br />Though poems brought no Earthly good, <br />Unpaid from year-to-year, <br />He plodded on, did what he should, <br />To make the Bible clear... <br /> <br />He prized the promise of a crown <br />His Saviour had foretold, <br />To one day melt away each frown <br />Now he was growing old... <br />Devoid of any trace of love <br />Romance was meant to bring, <br />He asked if grace had proved enough <br />In service of his King... <br /> <br />Unpaid he was, unpaid he stayed, <br />For no reward got he, <br />Except the joy that he displayed <br />When sharing poetry... <br />For no-one bought his works of art, <br />No prizes did he win, <br />But he wrote poems from the heart <br />And thus would not give in... <br /> <br />He stayed awake with evening near, <br />Not gently drawn to sleep, <br />For of all things that brought him cheer, <br />At night, the costs were cheap... <br />A skinflint to the bitter end, <br />Until the day he died, <br />But on that day, he met his friend, <br />With Christ's arms opened wide... <br /> <br />The Lord revealed lost souls were saved, <br />His works were not in vain, <br />Believing souls baptised and bathed, <br />With brand new lives to gain... <br />The poet smiled, received his crown, <br />His robe of righteousness, <br />Thus nevermore to wear a frown, <br />With Christ, his soul to bless...<br /><br />Denis Martindale<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-unpaid-poet/
