Having neither reference nor degree
I’m untethered to roam, to render free,

my taste, my smell, my guts in poetry or song:
iambs so sweet or sugary rhyme,

or esoteric muddle out of time.
The choice is mine as is the reward;

to grin, to whisper, “Yes! Yes!” at rare
sweet morsels of insight, of pithy delight.

Too modest-shy to claim the honor “Poet”,
I’ll wait for it to be bestowed, or not,

and labor quiet, content, secure, alone.
If when I’m gone, melted but for bone,

a soul, naïve or informed, should say,
“He was a poet you know”, I’ll bone clack

in my eternal sleep and hiss through dust
“Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!”

It’s hard to believe this blog has been around for eleven years. My Anthem was included in my first post and still residues on the About page. It expresses what I felt then, what I still do and hopefully will as long as I can maintain some semblance of cognition. Belated Words has helped me through many tough times like those we all must endure.