But it is one of the most pleasurable things to do.

I am not born to be a second choice
For I was born to be the best choice.

I am not raised to be an option,
I am raised to be the priority

I often write to many writing task.
But that's just because I'm trying to mask,
The inside of my inner thoughts.

They come back and forth like the waves to the shore.
It often gets chaotic making it hard to ignore,
The inside of my inner thoughts.

Regularly my head is drooped on my palm.
The hold it has on me, I want it liberated from...

A creeper once was planted,
On a cold North-facing wall,
The gardener wanted her to spread,
To cover the bricks and all.

In the weeks that followed,
She strove her best to grow,
But the sun was so unkindly
And the frost so cruel so.

Alas, one day a child at play
Broke off her slender stem.
'It's no use' she cried
'I'll never grow again.'

But she was so courageous,
A brave, hidden spirit she found
And started sending up new shoots,
Directly from the ground.

One day she got her just rewards,
For all her courage and strife,
The gardener came and transplanted her,
To start a brand-new life.

Now on a warm, South-facing wall,
Where the sun kissed her all day
And the gentle breeze caressed her,
She grew and grew away.

She grew so strong and beautiful
And when the tale is told.
Her crown of joy was autumn,
With her leaves tinged red and gold.

Keith Wilson . Windermere  UK  2017.