Creativity Continued Poem by Denis Martindale

The first line of the poetry came visiting one day
And hit me with alacrity and wouldn't go away.
It stayed with me the whole day long, repeating in my mind
And finally, I'm not that strong, I let the verse unwind.
I made some coffee, then returned and read the poem through,
Regretting what I once had spurned and thought of what to do.
How could I make this poem great, transform it, make it shine?
What precious thoughts could I create? I needed help divine.
I bowed my head and simply prayed, for love to lead me well,
Forgiveness for each time I strayed, delayed what I should tell.
The prophet as the psalmist knows the duties I forgot,
The poet must receive his prose, strike while the iron's hot.
Revitalised, with hope renewed, by faith, I wrote once more,
The second verse improved my mood and thrilled me to the core.
Then suddenly, I thought of her, my dream girl long ago
And of true love that once could stir this heart to overflow.
But life goes on, we parted friends, I miss her now and then,
That's how it is when true love ends, but that was way back when.
The third verse shared the love we had, the sweethearts' tenderness,
The magic moments we were glad and thought God chose to bless.
Now all that's left are memories, the fragments of romance,
The peace of mind as tears decrease, no more a second chance.
The poem done and sent by mail, accepted in due course
And published so it told the tale: Two lovers and their flaws.
My broken heart has never healed, through cracks the poems rise,
Like wheat within a farmer's field, they try to touch God's skies,
They blossom in the readers' hearts, they nestle in their minds
And then, not one of them departs, for such as these are signs.
The years bring wisdom, come what may and creativity,
If we but only seize the day, to be what we must be.
For some, romance leads to respect, then children by and by.
In time, they, too, will pause, reflect, create and ask God, 'Why? '