Poetry, per se, these days will never make me wealthy;
but a poem a day consumed, I say, is key to staying healthy.
There's something in the well-turned phrase
or in the measured line
that lifts the spirit in such ways
approximating wine.
There's ecstasy in metaphor,
a state of grace imbued
when words in combination form
a heightened amplitude.
The body takes its nourishment
from what it can digest,
in meats, in grains, in nutriments
that make for stalwartness.
But souls subsist on sweeter things
than what can tease the tongue;
and poetry that soars and sings
keeps old men feeling young.
© by Mike Orlock.
Used with the author’s permission.
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