Of wonderings and profundities I sing
On my best days, to make the welkin ring,
Though they be far between; on other days
Like this, my errant Muse, lackluster, strays
And, at the best, a ditty may perform,
An exercise, till bright ideas swarm.
Another day, I hope, a verse with verve
That higher estimation may deserve
Will animate my less lackluster brain,
Showing no evidence of mental strain
But rather the spontaneous overflow
Arising from noetic depths below
Of notions preternaturally inspired
Soaring above where I now lie enmired.