My Frame Of Mind
Some author's captive history,
Saved in a dusty book,
Don't forget the timeless greatness,
From the poet's vast outlook.
Words are often cast,
In the oceans of the deep,
And caught in big mesh nets,
While you're walking down the street.
The shoes will hit the pavement,
The thoughts come step by step,
And wearing out the leather,
Causes the experience to be kept.
In a sleeping or waking moment,
We all keep on with the thinking,
But what is it really worth,
If young eyes will stop the blinking?
So let the final begin,
But use no pad or paper,
Just learn to be a giver,
Instead of a bold taker.
Line after line,
And page after page,
The fire must keep burning,
With the literature of our age.
©1999-2020 Steve Bujanow