Inspired by creative spark to write another poem
began to scibble outpouring thoughts for skeleton
slowly poetic flashes enveloped and ligamented it
gripped by writer's fever, intense work followed
mixing adjectives, adverbs in palatable fashion
surprising lines emerged from artistic endeavour.
(A verse during writing engenders more verses
where it leads to is the literary adventure.)
It was a meagre poem, it satisfied me not
somehow it was jot alive, something was missing
for some time composition lingered in languor,
no master stroke to complete it - too many loose ends
no more literary progress - a dead - end it seemed,
just as well I am not meeting somebody's deadline.
With one ladt effort tried to tescue the miscarriage
reviewed the wordy construction, chopped and amended
but the end result is rejected - they are dead verses.
I bury them in my subconcious and await next spark
maybe one day thry will resurface in verse another,
unfinished verses litter the path of the writer's hike.
Copyright © Anna Szyszka | Year Posted 2018