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Told him once I was a poet
In fact, I am his poet woman
All the years I know he knows it
Back to him the words are comin'

There's a song on the pop charts
It's "Dirty little Secret" that they're singing
When it plays, the questioning starts
About if to bad karma I am clinging

Thought is all that's free
Unless you're paid to teach it
Thought will not let me be
When the "blacks" so hard to reach it

I feel old and gray
The sun is shining
Want a love to stay
Instead of whining

Old poets smile sometimes
Penning words of living
Writing all these rhymes
The minds keeps giving

Turning emotion around
To go from sad to elation
Old poet woman don't be down
Poetry's your soul overflowing with creation.

8/16/2005 0911 cj

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