It scarce starts as a well-formed line,
But fuzzy thoughts how so genuine,
All along you feel tense
As if under sentence,
A strange itch not of skin
In time gets somewhat mean
Whilst fuzzy thoughts get some vague shine,
Words vie to form, play bin,
Show some rare discipline,
Slowly ever so slowly,
And somewhat painfully,
Though tad twisted, make a fair twine.
Most poems born...
Continue reading...