A Modicum Of Meaning Poem by Mark Heathcote

A special moment, often perplexed
these thoughts expressed perceived.
Simple words go into building a subtext
the meaning-of is a gift well-received.

Libraries are filled wall to wall with books.
My favourite is poetry volumes
thoughts bagged on baited-hooks
wriggle in keepnets a dripping wet vacuum.

Words that enter my mind like eels
that belly down electrically still charged
at times their beauty and meaning congeals
and I am stunned, totally adsorbed.

At such moments I am palpably impaled
by the will of another I-am left bleeding
in this simple task of reading, I-am availed
of any doubt and filled with hopes interceding
everything has a plan a modicum of meaning.