Saturday, March 5, 2011


Another’s mind might seem a railroad yard
With trains of thought proceeding on their tracks,
All orderly and smooth, but I’m a bard—
My mental operations are more lax.

My mind is like a grand aquarium
Where many kinds of fish all intermix
And notions of all sorts have freely swum
Until the gazing poet nets his picks.

Such bountiful profusion’s requisite,
A chaos out of which new order forms,
It’s elements all measured, meet and fit,
Tight regiments of words from erstwhile swarms.

     So when I’m lost in thought, amazed and musing,
     I’m making sense from what was once confusing.