Do I make plans before I write, or simply let words flow?
Can I be perfect day and night, then scribble to and fro?
Erm, well, it's not that easy, friends, I'm prone to fumble through,
For that next rhyme God comprehends, He'll tell me what to do!
I act by faith, let phrases fly, watch words take shape and form,
I rarely pause to question why, I just write up a storm!
I'm letting my mind's eye see things, I'm typing fast and loose,
I write for paupers, princes, kings, it's their choice to peruse...
While there's a cup of coffee near, my eyes stay opened wide,
I'll carry on, of that, no fear, when done, I'll say I tried...
But then the hard part, oh, my, my! My spelling's up the creek!
Sometimes my typing makes me sigh, perfection's hard to seek!
So pardon me, if things go wrong, my eyes aren't what they were,
My eyesight isn't all that strong and some words tend to blur...
But I'm still here at dawn again, no clue what life's about...
It's time for bed... till up at ten... I'm just plum tuckered out!
Denis Martindale March 2017.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem