A spark. A flare. New ideas form.
You ponder what they might be worth
a plan
Words begin crackling into life.
The die have been cast, and they roll.
you write
Sometimes you’re lucky, and you win.
Sometimes, you need to cut and run.
a chance
Overseers observe, perplexed,
but fervor is not diminished.
a joy
The parts are assembled upon
the factory floor and reworked.
a draft
As lyrics converse in a song.
Gloriously it emerges.
a verse
— ~ —
The writing game can make mice of
men. An encounter that looms large.
go on
The mouse grins. Satisfied that he’s
tamed the giant. A poem now
complete
By Sarah ©2019
#NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day 28; and also, The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 401
We are all a bit like mice… just squeaking by –
I like that sometimes the words do just roll. And then others find more layers. 🙂
LikeLike
Excellent piece of poetry about poetry !
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
Don’t we all feel this way and then you find a favorite pieces gets only a few comments and then a piece hashed together in a hurry gets accolades. So I am happy with most comments!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Haha! So true!
LikeLike