When first I chose to sit and write,
Unbidden phrases came,
Yet all at once they brought delight,
Because that was their aim...
Because they taught me all I know,
I welcome them each day,
I say to each, 'Please come, don't go...'
I won't shoo them away!
And over time, my voice joined in,
With phrases never sought,
I've watched each poem then begin
With each new train of thought...
Yet reading through the first draft penned,
My word, I saw things change,
This discipline was my best friend,
Though editing felt strange...
Now I can write a dozen lines
And read them through and through,
Perhaps to spot the warning signs
Before I share with you...
But even with my poems right,
No-one pays a penny!
So, pardon me, if not polite,
YOU LOT WON'T GET MANY!
Denis Martindale December 2016.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem