All around this woman,
Is a cavalry of men.
An orchestra of orchestrators
Driving forth this pen.
The one who gave me a block to stand on
When I was on the verge to fall,
The one who gave me identity
At the start of it all.
The one whose keyboard wizardry
Made the website breathe,
The one who made a paper book
From that technology.
The one who checked the name was right,
And read the first out loud,
The one who shed a tear
And said it made him proud.
The one who gave me the space to do it,
When there was no space free,
The one who’d already shared his work,
Whose lyrics carried me.
The ones who inspired the words
– the strangers, and those I know,
The ones who bore witness
To every high and every low.
The ones who don’t read poems
But read them anyway,
And work worn weary still checked in
On those important days.
The ones who sent me messages
On structure, form and style,
The ones I didn’t yet know
Who listened with solidarity smiles.
The one who plucked the errors
Checked over every line,
Each stoically refutes the fact
They helped this writer shine.
Scores of “I did nothings”
All stacked up will disagree,
With that collective shoulder-shrugging,
Modest masculinity.
So,
This one is for the men who
Calmly one by one,
Did their bit to help me out
Until this book was done.
In myriad ways and selflessly
They raised up those flailing parts,
Together welding and wilding
That evergreen heart.
The words may be the keystone
Gaining praise and applaud
But their strengths built pillars
That flung open every door.
To all the men behind the pen
Who sought no praise nor due,
From this woman,
Who you each made stronger,
This one is yours. Thank you.