If I was ever lost for words, the tears would flow
That fountain in my mind would soon dry up
How terrible, if filling it again would be so slow
And the only aid I had was just a cup
Whilst the randomness of rhyme and rhythm stalk me
And the way the words develop readily
If I was ever lost for words, I’d never see
How the stanzas build with little effort steadily
If I was ever lost for time, my day would end
And leave a poem with unfinished lines
The tension I would feel, I would not recommend
I like to end things well most every time
If I was ever lost with my own sense of things
And could not write down everything I feel
Then that would be an end of my imagining
And nothing in my life would seem for real
If I could take one thing from my life’s journey
And turn it into words that would express
The way I live my life in perpetuity
I’d use it in a poem, to impress
So If I was ever lost for words, the tears would flow
A most essential part of me would die
And my life would fall to pieces, and reflect a glow
That once inspired these words of mine to fly.
A poet's restlessness when at loss for words to build a poem is expressed superbly.Thanks for sharing this beautiful poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
if ever I lost for words I go back and read what have written previously and pick up where I left.