When the words don’t come easy When inspiration evades me When I must gouge every word from my bound and stitched mouth When the rhythm’s distorted When the rhyme pattern is thwarted When confidence is eroded by crippling self-doubt When I shrink before mastery When my skill is unsatisfactory When my fountain of words is foundered by drought That’s when I lay my soul bare That’s when I let myself care That’s when what I put there on the table is me It’s my heart, soul and body It’s what pushes and drives me I’m a poet, a writer, and words set me free.
4 thoughts on “Ripples”
Not, for me, a ripple, but an Explosion: I struggle, then I get it.
I love your playing with rhymes in this.
True, ripples are the mild form! I’m glad you enjoyed my effort 🙂
Nice rhythm and reflection.
Thank you, Lorri.