I Almost Lost It!

I looked in the file cabinet but I could not find it there. It obviously had not been filed; I began to look elsewhere. I looked on the lamp table beside the green armchair. Only to find my poem was gone, but I did not despair. I looked in drawers in every room; frustration did forbear. Exactly where I put my work, I was not aware. I looked beneath my knitwear, my neck-wear, and nightwear. My poem, lost in a nightmare, had vanished in thin air. I began to search the kitchen, aggravation in full glare. I looked behind the china, the stoneware, and glassware. I looked between the pots and pans, beneath the new cookware. All too soon, my family knew my recall required repair. So, I retraced my every move as fear began to blare. There was nothing else to do but eat a chocolate éclair. (But I was on a diet; so, instead…yea, right…I ate a pear.) And all of this I did before my heart felt great despair. “My Dear” came to help me, for I could find the poem nowhere. At times like this, when things are lost, life seems so unfair. The devil cast his fiery net, but my soul he did not ensnare. I calmed myself, my hope was bare, and then, I said a prayer. It was soon discovered, after I cried, but did not swear. That it was in the computer room, not stolen by some corsair. A plastic drawer behind my chair had become my poetry lair. Forgotten works, unfinished thoughts, old poems were nestled there. Relief, now sighed, I caressed the page, new verse written with care. And it was not long after this dreadful affair that I became aware. Each poem that flows from a poet's heart is written with personal flare. Uniquely styled, with passionate views, shared insights, loved and rare. Whether upon the computer or on paper a poet's poems find air. Each published thought from soul to man must be carefully stored somewhere. So, when upon a summer's steam you write your thoughts so fair. Put them in a most safe place, consistently, and you will find them there. © July 12, 2010 Dane Smith-Johnsen