Confusing Musings
I’ve written on so many themes
Of one sort or another
The only thing I know for sure
I’ll never be a mother
These words of mine are all the kids
I’d ever want to father.
Sometimes they don’t say all they should
But still they’re worth the bother
If I could find a word somewhere
To rhyme Chicanery
‘Twould even give me pleasure
Were I in a granary
So just before I go to bed
I take my pen to write
In hopes some seizure in my head
May somehow spark a light
No they’re not all epiphanies
And rarely erudite
These ideas I’m so quick to seize
While in my bed at night
But I’ll keep counting syllables
In hopes someday I might
Find just the ones to fill the bill
With words that rhyme just right
Now painting pictures with my words
Is not what I am after
I want the rhythm and the rhyme
To lead some one to laughter
Just a giggle or a chuckle
At the end or at the start
Would warm the coldest cockle
Of this thing I call my heart.
Just another Warrenpiece
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