Trying so hard,
To make these words fit,
I lift up my cup,
And take a nice sip,
My poem,
Springs to life,
As the sun shines through,
My window this morning,
The grass glazed with dew,
Outside there's a bird,
That's perched on my fence,
Made of bamboo,
He looks quite intent,
To fly any moment,
And then off he goes,
I finish my poem,
And then eat my toast,
Each new morning sun,
Gives me such inspiration,
For writing a poem,
Is my great devotion.
Jayne Louise Davies
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