I hate it when I cannot write
My mind lays barren, bear
A thought just round the corner
Elusive, haughty ... taunting me!
They seem to sneak on tippy-toes
Like children hiding where I seek
In macabre and never ending games
Giggling, Sniggering ... taunting me!
The words fly and flit
Like birds on the wing
Or hiding in overgrown trees
Calling, whistling ... taunting me!
Sometimes they caress the veil
Between waking thoughts and sleep
Like a long lost lovers touch
Tempting, seducing ... taunting me!
Then they lap like lazy waves
Upon some foreign shore
A lulling of the senses
Hypnotic, rhythmic ... taunting me!
But every now and then
There is a little seed
Or a bashful, impish smile
A robin’s call
Warm and loving embrace
A shower of sea-soaked spray
And just maybe – from that beauty
A brief and blessed respite
The taunting stops
And words come wiggling through!
04 January 2012
My mind lays barren, bear
A thought just round the corner
Elusive, haughty ... taunting me!
They seem to sneak on tippy-toes
Like children hiding where I seek
In macabre and never ending games
Giggling, Sniggering ... taunting me!
The words fly and flit
Like birds on the wing
Or hiding in overgrown trees
Calling, whistling ... taunting me!
Sometimes they caress the veil
Between waking thoughts and sleep
Like a long lost lovers touch
Tempting, seducing ... taunting me!
Then they lap like lazy waves
Upon some foreign shore
A lulling of the senses
Hypnotic, rhythmic ... taunting me!
But every now and then
There is a little seed
Or a bashful, impish smile
A robin’s call
Warm and loving embrace
A shower of sea-soaked spray
And just maybe – from that beauty
A brief and blessed respite
The taunting stops
And words come wiggling through!
04 January 2012