poets, may your muse bless you with abundance
and a steady flow of inspiration;
may your conceits limit themselves to verse,
and your metaphor vehicles never
break down on their road to illustration;
may your rhymes stay fresh as spring, your clichés
take on the ambiance of pressed flowers,
and your similes remain precise and true.
muses, may your poets retain their hearts
in open awe at the majesty of life,
beholden to the constant wonder of truth
and the beauty of all things, for even
atrocity falls its shadow to contrast
miracle, glorifies the rise after the fall.
David M Pitchford
12 Nov 2011