Sitting down my eyes closed tight,
Wondering whether I’ll write tonight,
Another poem for you to see,
My pen and paper are close to me.
My words along the paper white,
My pen poised in my hand right,
Thinking of words to write in verse,
And with my friends in rhyme converse.
For Poets in countries worldwide
Often have thoughts they often hide,
Until a trigger releases the words,
To compose in poems with rhymes and verse.
Twelve lines I’ve written now tonight,
But I need eight more to make it right,
My usual poems are twenty lines long,
With Rhymes and Scans, and like a song.
I say aloud the words I write,
If it sounds O.K., I know it’s right,
That it will read well, and make some sense,
And my Poem’ll be done, yet again.
© Jonathan Goldman [JGthepoet] - 19 October 2005
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Jonathan Goldman just pooped