Hiding
This poem insists on hiding;
It’s resisting being found,
Despite the fact it knows full well
To daily verse I’m bound.
It’s teasing and it’s taunting
Staying just beyond my grasp.
I grapple with it but the words
Just vanish from my clasp.
I’m indebted to my pencil
For it’s managed to corral
This rambunctious little bugger,
Which has lifted my morale.
Copyright © Ilene Bauer | Year Posted 2016
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