Sandberg’s Visit


My fingers rest upon the keys
waiting for words
that will not come;
neither inspiration.
Hapless “poet”.

Now resting on sleep’s shoulder
drifting on sleep’s shore
young Sandberg visits in a dream
bearing poetry’s ladder.

“Struggling for several years
I have written little” say I
“my only completed works
a few poems, making no mark.

The ladder of poetry
is tall; extremely tall
and I stand on the lowest rung.
I doubt  that I will ever climb much higher.”

Sandberg smiled and shook his head.
“What you have done
is no ordinary thing;
to be on the first step
should make you happy and proud

for to be on this first step
is to be far above the ordinary world;
to strive to write what others read
you must first know yourself;
and of the City of Ideas a full citizen be.

To have come this far
is no small achievement
What you have done
is a glorious thing.

And if no one remembers your poems
save your children
well, is that not too
a glorious thing?”





About toritto

I was born during year four of the reign of Emperor Tiberius Claudius on the outskirts of the empire in Brooklyn. I married my high school sweetheart, the girl I took to the prom and we were together for forty years until her passing in 2004. We had four kids together and buried two together. I had a successful career in Corporate America (never got rich but made a living) and traveled the world. I am currently retired in the Tampa Bay metro area and live alone. One of my daughters is close by and one within a morning’s drive. They call their pops everyday. I try to write poetry (not very well), and about family. Occasionally I will try a historical piece relating to politics. :-)
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4 Responses to Sandberg’s Visit

  1. beetleypete says:

    I had to look up Carl Sandburg, though I knew Robert Frost. Nice work, Frank.
    Best wishes, Pete.


  2. sojourner says:

    This speaks to me in so many ways. I compose music because it is in me to compose music. What, if any, effect it has on others, negative or positive, I have no control over (and even a ‘negative’ effect can be a positive). It is the composing itself that is important. It is the writing of the poem that is important.

    It is how all art and artists begin, at the beginning. Where it goes from there is out of the artists’ hands. Whatever inspired the art to be created, in the first place, takes over from there.

    Excellent, Frank!


  3. Another fine socialist.

    Liked by 1 person

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