Not that it's about him, but he's one of my favourites. For obvious reasons.Poem for a dead poet
He was a poet he was.
A proper poet.
He said things
that made you think
and said them nicely.
He saw things
that you or I
could never see
and saw them clearly.
He had a way with language.
Images flocked around
him like birds,
St Francis he was,
of the words. Words?
Why he could almost make 'em talk.
Roger McGough
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3 comments:
im doing this poem for a school feis
im doing this poem for an esb exam.
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