For the Lady Who Thinks I Should Stop Writing

For the Lady Who Thinks I Should Stop Writing

If poems could travel past each day and delve deep into the firmament of soul, down and out of the realm of time, if words could wash the slippery soap of years into froths of joy, if the alphabet were able to concoct peace for life, 
then I’d give it up, that goal of printed thoughts. 
But words fail, are forgotten. People leave the playing field.
I need to call them back from the abyss. 
Eternity is written.