For A Job Well Done
Poets’ Roundtable Presidents, so shrewd!
You did your jobs with humble gratitude,
always without a restful interlude.
You must have wanted to pull out your hair,
in spite of your sophisticated air.
You burned both ends of candle, middle, too.
You stayed until each trying task was through.
You were our tranquil skies of constant blue.
You were red sunsets; we were only rays;
we never knew how bright you made our days.
When each retired and new one filled your place,
at first, we found it hard to like new face
but soon we welcomed each with an embrace.
You were the greatest! Pioneers who dared
to show the world how much true poets cared.
You reached for goals you often found too high
but never did you let us hear you cry;
instead, you sang a poet’s lullaby.
© 2013 Freeda Baker Nichols
For November, day 7, 2013