The Bug
THE BUG
I was bitten by a bug
It wasn't the bed-bug kind
It didn't hurt to feel the bite,
The attack was in my mind.
This bug was a different type
It struck one cold winter's night.
It was called a poetry bug,
Which encouraged me to write.
I opened up my laptop,
Yet didn't know where to start.
Poems need to be meaningful,
Ones that spring from the heart.
My thoughts were in a muddle
As words swirled in my head,
I became engrossed in writing,
And forgot to go to bed
Quickly different forms I wrote,
Pantoum, tanka and haiku.
I also wrote a villanelle
Plus a few of humour too..
I was bitten by a bug
It grasped me in it's vice,
Once having tasted it's effects
I won't need to be bitten twice.
Copyright © Vivien Wade Nov.12, 2016
Copyright © Vivien Wade | Year Posted 2017
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