My dear Audrey,
A most pleasant good morning to you. You are certainly welcome to use whatever you may find of use in the poem, in fact I would be honored. Thank you again for your kind words. I would like to see the painting when you are finished with it if that is permissable.
I've spoken to the French Knight and he conveys his warmest regards to 'the fair lady Audrey' (his words) and is very pleased that that you would ever so much as give brief pause to any words of his, let alone find meaning to them. He, like myself, would be honored for you to make whatever use you would of any words of his.
I find that my poems are usually somewhat dark or at least bemoan some loss or unrealized anticipation. I would like to see more of your writing as you have time and see fit. To answer your question: "Don't you agree that writing in poetry is great therapy?"
My answer is yes, it is. I often suggest to people who are having difficulties in their lives, when they are at a stage where a decision is difficult in coming, to write down what they feel and then to go back the next day and read it and then write some more. Poetry is not something that comes easily for most people so I tell them that it need not necessarily be poetry, just write what you feel and don't worry about rhyme or composition.
I felt especially forlorn one dark, still night as I gazed up at the black, starless sky. Suddenly the night took on new meaning for me, it became something ominous, an emptiness so vast that it literally took my breath away. I stood there alone and the silence screamed at me and for but one instant of time, one blink of an eye only, I became truly aware of what eternity is. I went inside and wrote 'The Coming Night'.
Very early on I realized just how little of what we feel ever gets to be words and how little of what churns in our heads and hearts ever gets on paper. I felt frustrated at my inability to communicate in the written word things that burned inside of me. I stopped what i was attempting to do and wrote: 'How Great The Loss', a poem about what is lost between the poet's heart and the pen in his hand.
I thought about a decision that was made that rendered two hearts and I wrote: 'In The Ashes Of Time'. I mused one day on how fleeting life was, of the price we pay for the life we spend and I wrote: 'Upon The Wings Of Time'. I thought about how little we really know about how man started and what really happened in that fabled Gard of Eden and I wrote: 'Eve's Choice'. Well, the list goes on. When I have these...what?...stirrings...disturbances in my emotional equilibrium, I find that I must write about it. I find poetry to be a very powerful medium of expression.
Thank you very much for listening and for responding. I hope I continue to see you here.
