To my Poetry instructor
A Poem to a Poet) l)
Greatness is measured by deeds,
The northern wind doth blow, moves and clears
The arid dull hanging leaves
So new life the branches of wit breathe;
A maestro he is for he repeats
“Listen to me please” and perceive
A key note to play to receive
The rambling poesy a sweet melody;
Refer to him as well as referee,
For he our wit directs with ease
Steering logic from turbulence to breeze
From the isle of Sidney, to Rome to Greece
He does it all and exceeds
And we the small parched seeds
Long to the wind that stirs
Yet dare not displease
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