A picnic table - Portballintrae sea-front. <br />The poet sits alone - <br />Just pencil and notebook for company - <br />Lost in the typical poet's lonely contemplation. <br />Quiet observations of passing life - <br />Ideas form and inspiration ingrains in my mind <br />From which I'll create my next new masterpiece! <br /> <br />Couples walk past hand in hand, <br />Mums and Dads have picnics with their weans, <br />Dog-walkers stop for a chat, <br />Pensioners sit and talk over past glories. <br />And still I sit - lost in thought - <br />Buried deep in my mind. <br />Will I ever break through this loneliness? <br />This loneliness of body and spirit.<br /><br />bryan wallace<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-lonely-poet-3/
