John Field Noel
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When Poetry…

When poetry blossoms, I am a painter

When poetry crawls, I am dirt

When it dies, I am a tomb

When it entertains, I am a king

When poetry saddens hearts, I am a piece of rag

When poetry dances, I am a floor

When it rains, I am a sponge

When it blows, I am open spaces

When poetry counsels, I am wise

When it irritates, I am a revolutionary

When poetry talks love, I am the magnetic force joining lips

When it cries, I am a mournful mouthpiece

When poetry dies, I am a happy tomb

For it is my master, and I its forever slave.

By Heandel Noel

Written in feb-2009



AUDIO BY WELDY M-G NOEL & AGNES LARAQUE

"Qu'a-t-il fait?" (What has Christ done?)

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