"Her yielding touch" | 1 [an ars poetica series]

Poetry lately insists I pay her heed
unmindful if I've got other fish   to fry
with such a friend   one listens   to her need
& makes a decent effort     & a try

perhaps this need arises   in my own heart
seeing how many an avenue else of life
so easily stalls or turns to naught   I've known art
(& poetry's deeply art)   I've known no wife

nor carried as yet ambition for fruitful venture
into life's marketplace   & won its prize
nor brought back home (what home?) from my indenture
such coins of gold as glint in a loved one's eyes

while poetry fondly embraces me     & offers
her yielding touch despite a field of scoffers