Poetic Injustice
In lovely prose did Kilmer write
Impressed by an arbored delight
“I think that I shall never see,
A poem lovely as a tree.”
And in those days of poets past
The only way their words could last
Stained ink upon the wood-pressed sheaf
Paper hewn leaving homeless leaf
His words so true to his nature
But scrawled upon simple paper
How could he possibly foresee
That his beauty would fell the tree
In the boughs that held robin’s nest
A feathered friend can find no rest
Poems are made by fools, he said
But even he wanted his poems read
Fame presses on a greater need
Axe cleaves as wooded soul is freed
And I can see the irony
That “Only God can make a tree”
commonsensiblyspeaking 
an interesting perspective on an interesting man. your words twist and turn like an old tree.
Thanks, Beth. You are the best! Enjoy your holiday!
A great and very interesting poem referencing an interesting man…and yes, of course, no doubt that only God can make a tree…the ultimate artist, who, like Picasso said, never cared about a style, He could create an elephant and next to it a gnat…
Thank you, dear friend! I loved that you shared Picasso’s words on art and style. So very true!
My pleasure my friend!
I love the irony here; and I’d have to disagree with Kilmer and say that poems aren’t made by fools, but by creative geniuses…
Thanks, Jim!