Will this poem run
out my finger and my thumb
through the pencil to the page
or will it take an age?
Oh, I see,
an age it will be.
Ill just write something here,
nothing special, nothing dear,
while it wanders and it winds
on its way to my mind.
If I knew what to say,
I might write the word May.
I might put a comma here,
or contemplate the air.
But Ive hit a rut,
a rotten knotting in my gut,
and its telling me I must
make an end here and go dust.
I found this poem tonight. I don’t know when I started it, but I finished it a few minutes ago with the last stanza. Just a bit of silliness so I can giggle while I clean tonight.
I like your poem. Sounds real good to me. The knitting does not look all that bad. Better then anything I have done. Of course, that's not saying much. Hope Jabba is feeling better and that your trip was successful. Posted by: Mom on November 7, 2003 07:59 AM |