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The Missing Word

When words are lost against their will A search party will insue The poet will look for just the right word For nothing else will do Sometimes he'll look for days on end While conspiring with his muse But no matter how hard the poet looks There's nothing else he can use The other words stand so tall and proud Hoping to take fill his space But the poet keeps looking both day and night With determination all over his face The letters paitently wait their turn To fill the poet's quill But until he finds that special word None of them ever will And just when he's almost given up A whisper from his muse makes him smile He found the word that he couldn't find Although it took him a while

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012




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Date: 3/11/2012 8:05:00 AM
Boy, can I ever relate to this one, Larry! Great write. Enjoyed. There's a typo you may want to change "patiently" (1st line, verse 4). Best to you and yours. Ralph
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Date: 3/9/2012 1:24:00 PM
Hey Larry, Very nice light poem...enjoyed reading...Marty
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