In Your Brain Remain

In Your Brain Remain When to much education had an exposure Will become mature and gain composure As pen between both fingers try to clutch Will write remarkable poems with a personal touch. Pen starts to move and words then will form Maybe about some storm or when it was warm Readers understand what all my poems meant And then will know I have become triumphant. Each poem I write has a specific purpose Like a trapeze artist in three ring circus Each move is graceful and well orchestrated To see them people forever will have waited. Same thing to a poem always does apply While you stand there still wondering why In my mind is one more poem that I retain That forever must remain in your big brain. This is my morning mass mania (Three M's) Of poems that are probably pathetic and I even have been called a Horn heretic. Can you imagine? James Thomas Horn, Retired Soldier