Sunday, April 3, 2011

About Writing

I don't write poems. Errant words gather together in my head, form lines, and then fall out onto paper. This is what they looked like on one occasion.

About Writing  

Retreated from the world
With only a pen
Imagination swirled
Stories began

If you never try, you never know
Scribble a line
And watch it grow
Don’t conform, don’t confine
Just open your world
And let the stories untwine

Hours spent curled,
Dreaming up lands
Then the plot unfurled
Beneath my hands
Creation reared, unleashed on paper
I’m off to write more, talk to you later.

1 comment:

  1. Love it!
    You are certainly talented. That flowed in a lovely way.