I mentioned reading this in The Voices of Our Future a couple of years ago.

The Essence of a Poet

by Janna Hill

The thing that forces them to write

When flaming words from head take flight

What sees them through a wakeful night

The burning soul of a poet

 

The gentle eyes that make them see

The deeper beauty of a tree

And grieve for things that should not be

The tender heart of a poet

 

The unseen thing that makes them vie

That lures a tear drop from their eye

That prods them till the day they die

The fate of every poet

 

Though some may write with sticks on sand

While others write with pen in hand

A million keyboards strike commands

For the essence of a poet