Tuesday, 10 January 2012

A poem about my poetry.

Sometimes I like to write in verse
sometimes I favour prose
I’ve no idea why which I choose
it’s random, I suppose
but it seems the poems start themselves,
but do they? Heaven knows.
It matters not, as long as both
the word and feeling flows.

my Muse will take the day off
and I’m completely bereft of worth.
No words to lay,
no rhyme to play,
I have to wait another day
before the things I want to say
will all come tumbling forth.

Oftimes, I’m thinking,
Where is this poem
Sometimes I write
without an end
in view.
but rarely
am I left with
no conclusion...........

this time.

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