The Word Thief

A hand that writes at night and eyes staring into shadowed lanes Spewing words out like water but drying before the ripened grain Gone like dying winds fade into a summer breeze Cunning thoughts blow away, reminiscent of autumn leaves How I hate the fleeing words that vanishes before the first line So hard to awaken the lost thoughts, they were so clear at the time Now, they’re gone before the brain can think and take an alluring grip vanishing into the flyway of words, in search of speaking lips I’d like to give honor to others who avoids the robbery of the thief Defeating the snares of losing words and welcome the dreams of sleep Writing pretty words upon the tablet when thoughts and rhyme appear You can wink and laugh at the word thief, he has no mischief here