I'm not a poet I never said that I was
I commenced penning in my physical prime
When I was twenty six or twenty seven
Some thirty five years that's going back in time
Perhaps I would be growing old in prison
If penning of doggerel was outlawed as a crime
I have been penning stuff for many Seasons
One might say reams and reams of slipshod rhyme
On Life and Nature there is so much to write on
I keep on penning more stuff every day
I just write on without much recognition
An amateur of sorts in every way
Just for the love of it I would have to be addictive
The good writers they do make writing pay
Some ask me why do I persist in writing
I just love to write to them is all I say
I've written about Life and Love and Nature
Of things I have imagined and I've seen
Of people that I have met on my travels
And of places that to I have never been
I write of people I have known for decades
I honour old friends who have passed away
I write on through the good and not so good times
I write on though the years have left me gray
All of you who claim that I am a poetaster
I cannot say with you I disagree
Yet to write of People and of Life and Nature
Is happiness enough in life for me
A pleasant enough day of breeze and sunshine
A magpie fluting on a blackwood tree
And the rhymes in my poetaster brains are stirring
When the magpie lark in the park sings pee wee.
Francis Duggan
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-m-not-a-poet-i-never-said-that-i-was/
