The toast is ...
Come, my friends, let us drink a toast. Let
Us imagine that the oceans between us
Though deep and treacherous are calm and
Shallow for our purposes and moreover,
Consummately navigable by the easiest of
Means in this year of our Lord 2019.
Let us repair at once to a roaring fireside,
Sharing tales of fantasy and woe, of fun
And frolicking good times. Holding nothing
Back in our quest for freedom of expression,
Our lust for new horizons, our passion for
The pen and its rapacious reservoir constantly
In need of replenishment.
Let us rejoice in our friendship, our love of
Words, our ability to sculpt without clay,
Fashion without cloth, smithy without coals.
What better company can there be than that
Of friends who have bared their soul, aired
Their pain and brought love, life and reality
To the world.
What other medium is there that can rally
Such satisfaction, strike a ready conduit
Between writer and reader and touch on so
Much in so few words? Truly a force of some
Worth. In light of which, I beg you would
Charge your glasses, raise your glasses and
Drink mightily deep, for the toast is: Poetry.
© Joseph G Dawson
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