Learning the way to write, <br />I follow the masters of time, <br />Which we learn from school, <br />By writing what we know, <br />For it would not be true. <br /> <br />A simple line can tell you a story, <br />Seamus Heaney ‘Mid Term Break‘. <br />A four-foot box, a foot for every year, <br />So short, you feel his pain. <br /> <br />We all try to follow in what we know, <br />For we don’t want to disappoint the ones we love. <br />In ‘Digging’ Seamus Heaney wanted to follow, <br />Only to find he already does. <br />Between my fingers and my thumb <br />The squat pen rest <br />I’ll dig with it. <br />The pen was his spade <br />. <br />In words we find where we are lost, <br />I’m lost between love for my dad and for my life. <br /> <br />I take pen paper wherever I go, <br />When I’m troubled, I turn to my words to draw me a picture; <br />Somewhere the devil can’t get me. <br /> <br />Where the Daffodils are fluttering and dancing in the breeze. <br />Tossing their heads in sprightly dance, <br />I can picture them now, though I’ve never seen them. <br />I know them to be true, they’ve been written <br />For we never will see the whole world or walk every path that is set, <br />We can only imagine and with that we need words.<br /><br />Joseph Tanner<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/forgotten-words/
