A Portrait of Sequoyah
He was called George Guess, or sometimes just Guest
In English, but lessons he never took.
Nonetheless, he was scholarly at best
Though, he lived in a nation with no books.
He hung a calumet from his tight lips,
Had distant eyes and was thoughtful in looks.
One bent and withered leg hung from his hip,
And a turban on his head he did wear.
Upon his shoulder was carried a chip.
So around 1809 he did swear
To make the leaves talk and inspire.
His wife and friends thought he had not a prayer.
Twelve years later proved him not a liar.
By ‘25 the words spread like fire.
This is a first draft of a poem I'd like to write onto the back of a large portrait I painted of the man. I would appreciate any suggestions as it doesn't sound as eloquent as I would like it to. Thank you in advance.
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