Old style

I am a mediocre writer
going round and round
my lines imperfect sing
determined to bring
the sky to the ground
the air to feel a lot lighter.

I am a mediocre writer
talking to the stars
my lines not so deft tell
stories of heaven, not hell
in the middle of worrying wars
that made the stage so somber.

I am a mediocre writer
floating light and sound
yet the lines do not catch
the eyes of the unmatched
a bard judged old, unbound
with improper sense of humor.

I am a mediocre writer
going round and round
I still whistle and whisper
about peace our true nature
my thoughts will heal, not hound
the hearts of my readers.