Deaf, Unsightly Or Dumb

Have never been deaf, unsightly or dumb But where do my poems keep coming from? As each page with pin I will sit and stare And here comes another out of mid-air. Never before were any ever pre-planned Looked and right in front of me it did land Thank God my poem I was not botching Helped me come up with a clever concoction Hope it doesn't appear to be pornographic Or like a beat up body ran over in traffic Perhaps something short, simple and plain Causing no strain or on brain being a drain. What will last poem I write in my life be? Suppose from all sin it had set you free Even when weather and sky outside are gray A path to heaven it just may pave the way. When in poem God I occasionally mention May disturb some people and cause dissension But being for God there is such a high demand Am sure what I say with ease you can understand. James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran