Walkin on Air
AussiPoet sounds somewhat obscure
to those who never had to endure
the controversy of a brilliant mind
that in spite of fellows quite unkind
stuck by a code of writing
akin to spiritual knighting
along the path of tradition and culture
defying the omnivorous literary vulture
sitting on small shoulders of smaller minds
ever seeking fault; that yet seldom finds
any valid poetic error
to fit such aberrational terror.
At long last the victim departed in sorrow
having failed to quell the arrows of spite;
he now journeys on into a new tomorrow
in the elsewhere of light-events trite.
In a distant future might he return,
mayhap allow our senses to savor
once again the rhythm and rhyme?
Bridges behind him do they burn
like excessive chilies kill flavor
in spaghetti without timian and thyme?