What?! Another poem?! Yes, dear friends, I'm starting to write again. Short, small things. One tiny idea . . .but hopefully, a tiny little taste that your brain can lap up, and your imagination may savor.
it appears I've become poetically blind.
Hopefully, I'll write I’ll right
continue to write until my musing spirit
needs glasses . . .
and leads me to the promised lands
where poetry can be plucked
right out of the apple colored sky.
Woodie o9-18-15
Seeing
Eye
The
coffee in my Walmart ceramic cup
is
pleasantly warm. My poetry however . . .
Not
enough caffeine
to
awakened my inner, creative eye. . . it appears I've become poetically blind.
Hopefully, I'll write I’ll right
continue to write until my musing spirit
needs glasses . . .
I'll
quit when Beckett's ghost transforms
into a seeing eye dog and leads me to the promised lands
where poetry can be plucked
right out of the apple colored sky.
Woodie o9-18-15
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