Leave you alone
thinking you are writing a poem
you gaze into the air as if it were written there
& all you had to do
was snatch it quick
& the magic of the words
would be yours.
“Well..? ”
I enquire finally.
“Well...what? ”
a smile playing about your lips.
“Let me see.. what you’ve composed! ”
eager for
newly minted words
I snatch it to discover
it is
a shopping list for the Italian shop
but then the sounds
rigatone...salsicce
are poems
in themselves.
I chant them
to the cat
& he looks suitably
impressed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hee hee you'd make a poem out of anything...that'll teach ya to snatch my paper. Well, a poem did emerge but it was by you and not me. That's the last time I'll give ya my shopping list if all you're going to do with it is write a poem about it! love GinaXXX