Professor George Wellington
Came Into Class
His Hair Outgrown Deshiveled
And Gray
Squinting Through
His Wired Glasses
Removing Blowing
Breath At Them
Then Proceeding To Wipe Them

“There That’s Better Now”

The Class Was Large
Descending In Steps
Young Minds With
All Different Thoughts
Ready To Be Challenged
Or So He Thought

“Very well I suppose you
all know my name.
Yes, I am Professor Wellington.
The class you signed up for is a Study Of History with Philosophy, and last but not least Poetry of Love”

“Yes I suppose many of you are thinking what does he know about love. We shall find out & see”

The Roman Empire in 27 b.c.
Charles The 1st (I suppose the one and only) made his mark

Emperor of The Holy Roman Empire from 800 through 814

I present to you the following poem quite a fieryverse as they say

The Autocracy Of
Absolute Power
Battles Ensued
At Carthage
Soldiers Were Worn
In The Deathly Silence
Of War and Decay
May They Rest In Peace

Your material for tonight is to read Chapters 1 and 2. Jot down the poem and let that influence and inspire your creative juices and write one yourself for class on Wednesday.

“Second Assigment for extra credit will involve the next poem. My advice to you is to do the extra credit for I tend to be selfish giving out passing grades”

In A Renaissance Time
Ciceronian Making Headway
To Which
Style Of Cicero’s De Oratore
Spoke To
Writers, Oraters,
Wrote & Created
In The Quietness Of Space

“Very well see you all on Wednesday same time and you are all dismissed to enjoy your lunch leisureally as I will mine”

That night at his old worn desk, papers scattered about Professor Wellington usually talked to himself thinking Joan was still by his side.

“Well I’m having a bit of a spell
An Alchemy
There Before
An Obscure Thought
Within These Paper
Walls Of My Mind
Now Questioning
Damn it Man!
I Am Not Losing My Grip
Write and Process
It Will Come
You Know Better Than This Old Chap

And there it was as he turned the page his first poem he wrote about love…
It had Spills and Marks
Paper Worn Thin With Age
But a Poem of Love
He Cleared His Throat
Then read It out loud to himself

The Souls
Of Unrequited Love
Remain In The
Quiet Madness
Of Disparity
It Is A Pain
Like No Other
Merciful Lord
Help Me

Then he remembered his first and only love Joan or as he called her “Joan of Arc.” She was a devil of a girl ready to take on the world. High spirited and to those who challenged her unrelenting accost, fight to the last word.

And there it was Joan’s two favorite poems.

I Ask
Are We Not
Equal Parts Of
Always Taking It
A Deep Further
The Gestalt of Insanity
A Unified Influence
For Our Greed

In Corners
Of Deprived Souls
They Tread Unsteady
But With Resilience
They Cross The Threshold
Not Broken Nor Beaten
Reviving All Decimated Dreams
And We Survive

Then the poem she had written for her father after years living with Dementia

In Ambiguity
A Fallacy
In Absurdity
He Was
Lost and Then Found
But Remained Lost
In The Jungle
Of His Mind
To You Dear Father

Then it was Joan herself torment ridden with the same disease.

She would say “George I wrote a poem before this illness robs me of my mind and creativity but to remind you how I fought mentally. Then you can read it to me when the time comes”

Within The Confines
Of Her Darkest
The Love He
Offered Her
Will Never
Escape Her
Lucid Daydreams
In Moments
Of Purest Love
To My George With Love Joan

She wrote another poem before the time would come to just breathe and stare stoically.

Her Words
Of Atticism
Were A Touch Exaggerated
My Love Is An Ocean
Filled Of Blissful Waves
Complicated When
A Storm Rises

Hahaha Her and George would laugh describing some of their heated arguements always about politics.
He knew she secretly wanting to run for office and make her crux. She was a free spirit and a fighter for democracy.

Joan would always write a poem for the pivotal times in her life. This one for the day she married George.

Her Skin Glowed
Hair Of Luster
Beneath Thy Viel
Embraced By Time
Her Words Of Matrimony
Vows Of Atticism
Eloquently Said
If I say so myself.
The Night Of Our Wedding
To You George.

Professor Wellington
Fell To Sleep On His Desk
A Dim Light
Casting The Shadows Of Darkness
He Rested He Lived He Loved He Taught By Example

Poem Of Verses 5
Thank you to the verses and especially the Community of Poets, Writers, and Authors

©Natalie Keshing