Monday, February 25, 2008


I am essentially an essayist
Attempting to discover my own mind
Or make it up where thoughts don’t yet exist,
Which writing lets me seek and often find.

While some who write weave stories from their lives
Or fantasies, contriving characters
And plots exposing motives, manners, drives,
I’d rather follow rhymes till thought occurs.

It’s more like drawing water from a well
Or calling spirits from the vasty deep
Or contemplating in a rapturous spell
Till words I sow grow verses I can reap.

So night by night I wake to let words play;
How well I do, I’ll leave you to assay.