Scraping the walls
That resemble my mind
I cannot think coherently
For my sight
Has gone blind
My ears
Have gone deaf
My touch
Has numbed
My smell
Has died
Toppled by nightmares
Which persist when awake
Wishing for the day
To fly away

The day is awakening
Like a soft white rose
in morning dew
opening  it’s petals
The sun shines through
Thankfulness overwhelms.
To see yet another day.


Shell ✨🐚

Suffering from the commonest of poet’s laments,
I sit staring at an aggravatingly blank page.
I flip my pencil through my fingers, hoping it will break
And I will have to take the time to go and find a new one.

I can hear the subtle ticking of the clock and it annoys me.
I never hear it when ideas crowd my pen.
I turn the radio to Doo *** -
Maybe that will wake creative juices-
But I just end up singing with the Tenor.

I hit the Mac and try to see what others wrote
But that just makes me feel like I am hopeless
And who said I could be a poet anyway.
I know so little of the forms and rhymes.

It’s time to go and get the dinner going
Fame will have to wait another day.
I close the Mac and trundle to the kitchen
To see if I can manufacture poems in a sauce pan.
ljm

And when I awoke
I felt your presence and smiled
I turned to you as your eyes opened
and will never forget that feeling
of love, longing, happiness
for as long as I live