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