Hello, Poetry! Poem by Denis Martindale

I saw the poetry walking towards my house,
Then straight up to my door,
I got down the stairs in time,
I let the poetry in and I offered some coffee...
After the coffee, the poetry explained,
So I got the pen and the paper,
Started taking as many notes as I could...

The poem certainly was a tricky theme,
But the poetry had every faith in me,
Told me to give it a go, see what I could do...

Then the poetry stood up, shook me by the hand,
Yet there I stood, knowing another visit was soon,
So once the poetry had left, I sat down again...

Loads of ideas fluttered in my brain,
Like a host of butterflies swirling inside,
Then they settled and stayed completely calm,
So at last, I could think and make a start...

I was puzzled as to how to present the tale,
This was neither funny or serious in nature,
Just a basic account with what happened next details,
Something was missing, a jigsaw piece,
A spasm of inspiration bringing things together...

I tried three times to get the poem to say something,
To have some purpose, some measure of worth,
But nothing happened that proved helpful...

So I read my notes again... and yet again...
And there it was, just one word that wasn't clear,
Yet once corrected, the poem came to life...
The early attempts torn up, no longer needed,
But starting over was the turning point,
The greatest blessing that I had felt so far...

That one word made sense of the experience,
Rekindling the writing skills once more...
So from then on, the rhyming lines flowed,
Smooth as silk, gentle, tranquillity personified...

It was done, checked, checked and checked again,
Saved, kept safe, then another printed copy made,
Created to appear in a fancy calligraphy style,
Framed especially for when the poetry returned...

The next day came and the poetry was back,
So after some coffee, I presented the framed poem,
So the poetry read the words slowly...
The poetry stood up, embraced me, thanked me,
Then left my house with the framed poem...

Didn't even pay for the poem or the frame...
And even to this day I've learnt,
The poetry never does...


Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2013.