My Time of the Month
I think I’ve a cycle
a monthly mindful
when I will write more
mind will rhyme pour
with ease and a flex
I see readied text
a pick and or mix
choice with index
pen down at pace
ideas not too waste
on my hand my face
capture to place
and given within
is rhythm too win
tight writes begin
like church bells ring
and I really go
fly smooth with flow
overthinking loads
then damaging rows
long winded
loose hinges
from great rhyme fringe
to cringington cringes
however one poem will prevail
do well
and I’ll buzz and I’ll rush
forgetting rubbish writes of sludge
seek a new write
a rhyme alike
set too the standard
but my mind now hampered
nothing happens
complete silence
I can’t see or sense words
the brain of a bird
rhythm wants to occur
but just goes nurr burr turr
I have a time of the month for rhyming
when I tampax it and catch a flow for writing
the seeds bringing to life rhyme
bleeding pen strings pictures your mind
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