RIDING A SONNET

               At first there’s little that I have to say,
               But soon a line arises in my mind
               That starts me galloping along my way
               As it grows clearer how my thought’s inclined,

               For poetry’s about discovery,
               And at the start there’s no way I can know
               Where after fourteen metered lines I’ll be:
               I boldly write and watch the poem grow

               Until the ninth line, where I’ll take a turn
               More certain now, but not entirely sure
               Of where I’m headed, for I’ve still to learn
               What point I’m making as my lines grow fewer:

                    Verse is a vehicle that takes you where
                    You never know you’ll go until you’re there.

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