fascination

I have been really distracted the past few days and its a good thing. I have really been taking interest in other poets and poems and that has really been my fascination. What I do is I read the poem and then I like to read the bio about the person who wrote it. If there is one. I try to read books and poems that have an author that is not anonymous, so that I can read any and all autobiography books about the person who did the writing. It amazes me how some of these people have a lot or less in these biographies that I read. Then I can't help but wonder was this all their life was? or is this all they want other readers to know about them? I see it as you only get one shot at life and I plan to make use of every waking moment that I have. Who knows yours truly may decide to have a bio wrote or maybe someone would be so fascinated by me and write one about me. That's what I want to spark into people when I write and interact with them and yet it seems that I am not accomplishing that as quickly as I feel I should. So maybe I am rushing things.....ok I am. LOL! I want to be all that I can while I can because I never want to be some old boggy full of regrets. Now another question I am going to explore is how do I go about making these  worthwhile things happen in my life? Only I can figure that one out.So that will most definitly be my new main goal to accomplish. In fact, it is the only goal that I want to see happen because if I can make that goal happen then everything I want to see happen will fall into place.  Here is a poem that has really stayed in my mind. It also is brilliantly written and sums up everything I hope to bring into my life as a writer. It will be added to my favorite poems as  a timeless reminder for me as a writer.

                                "The Garden Seat" (1875-1943) 
                                 Richard Emil Miller   
                                 
THE POETS SECRET 
BY ELIZABETH STODDARD

The poet's secret I must know,

If that will calm my restless mind.
I hail the seasons as they go,
I woo the sunshine brave the wind.

I scan the lily and the rose,
I nod to every nodding tree,
I follow every stream that flows,
And wait beside the steadfast sea.

I question melancholy eyes,
I touch the lips of women fair;
Their lips and eyes may make me wise,
But what I seek for is not there.

In vain I watch the day and night,
In vain the world through space may roll;
I never see the mystic light

Which fills the poet's happy soul.

Through life I hear the rhythmic flow
Whose meaning into song must turn;
Revealing all he longs to know,
The secret each alone must learn.