A tamarind tree provides the shade he needs,
Cooling the spot where he rests.
A tomb for his seat,
Leaves blowing in the wind.
Inspiration at ever turn like the sun as it illuminates the sky,
Still he’s not sure what to write.
Thoughts running through his mind,
Like a stream that runs for miles.
He’s barely known,
Not yet famous,
The words he writes are his own.
Many days he sits silently alone,
Pen in hand,
Book sprawled across his lap,
Waiting for a friend,
Perhaps a stranger to come along.
It brings him great pleasure to share the thoughts he conjures up,
He writes from a place that brings him solace and comfort,
so don’t take from him what you didn’t give.
Copyright © Xavier Frazer 2016
All rights reserved. Including the rights to reproduce this poem, or portions thereof in any form. No part of this poem may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored, in any form or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without the express written permission of the author.
Good one…took me under that tamarind tree
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Am glad it did. That’s where I sit when writing my pieces
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The last two line are especially powerful and capture the essence of this piece… nice read
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Am glad elated that you enjoyed reading this piece. I am truly humble by your comment
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“Inspiration at ever turn like the sun as it illuminates the sky,
Still he’s not sure what to write.
Thoughts running through his mind,
Like a stream that runs for miles.”
That plays to my heart. I look forward to reading more!
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how much more can i like your words!!
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Thank you. You can like my words as much as you would like
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i am glad and honored to read your poetry… Truly!! Hats off!!
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I am humbled that you feel honored to read my poetry
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