I spill some words upon a page;
Chop them around, even the lines.
Is it a poem? Who can know?
It seems to go. It seems to flow.
I count my syllables, choose my words.
But is it a poem yet? I don't know.
Give it some rhythm, make bits rhyme
Make sure no rhymes are too absurd.
Throw the bits out that don't quite go.
Is this a poem yet? Don't quite know.
Is there something here so well expressed
It grabs your heart, your guts, your chest?
Does it paint pictures, conjure scenes
Pull you into the poet's dreams?
Or is it just words upon a page
All chopped up and written in lines?
YOU ARE READING
Second Wind
PoetryHighest rank #12 in Poetry Second Wind is an eclectic collection of mostly light hearted poems but often has a serious message and takes the occasional side swipe at politicians and those in power.
