Donna
Autorin
In the most inopportune times, poems like to start.
In the middle of work, one scrawls across my heart.
Later, I try to remember, but tend to forget.
How many have I lost that way, filed under regret?
Or even overlooked, not giving them a chance?
Some still patiently wait to perform their wild dance.
Quite odd, that writing can make you lose track of time.
Dog-paddling like mad, desperate to find the perfect rhyme.
Not discerning where I'm heading, yet going with the flow.
Saying what I didn't know I knew, what the words show.
I love the discovery aspect of writing.
Like travel, everywhere inspiration igniting.
The clatter of ideas and blurred jumbled intrusion.
What insists to be heard, sifting through confusion.
Abandoning myself, engulfed in the details.
Voices vying for attention, what gets to prevail?
Sometimes I have to unplug, step away from the offset.
Do other things, get into another mindset.
The characters settle down, plead for me to return.
I'm feeling guilty that our assembly had to adjourn.
I am a slightly different person than the last time we met.
Back at my desk, I hand them a conciliatory flowerette.
© Donna H.
August 28, 2024
In the middle of work, one scrawls across my heart.
Later, I try to remember, but tend to forget.
How many have I lost that way, filed under regret?
Or even overlooked, not giving them a chance?
Some still patiently wait to perform their wild dance.
Quite odd, that writing can make you lose track of time.
Dog-paddling like mad, desperate to find the perfect rhyme.
Not discerning where I'm heading, yet going with the flow.
Saying what I didn't know I knew, what the words show.
I love the discovery aspect of writing.
Like travel, everywhere inspiration igniting.
The clatter of ideas and blurred jumbled intrusion.
What insists to be heard, sifting through confusion.
Abandoning myself, engulfed in the details.
Voices vying for attention, what gets to prevail?
Sometimes I have to unplug, step away from the offset.
Do other things, get into another mindset.
The characters settle down, plead for me to return.
I'm feeling guilty that our assembly had to adjourn.
I am a slightly different person than the last time we met.
Back at my desk, I hand them a conciliatory flowerette.
© Donna H.
August 28, 2024
