Accidental Poet

Before Its Rightful Time

 

As I stare into empty space

Searching for words

Just out of reach

 

I have to wonder

Why they hide from me

And what to me this will teach

 

Perhaps their meaning

More important than I think

Hence, increasing my appreciation

 

And so for however long it takes

Like a broth my poetry will simmer

Until it reaches completion

 

Sometimes a poem must wait

For weeks, months or years

Aging like a fine wine

 

To all poetry I will be true

I’ll serve up no poem

Before its rightful time

 

Copyright © Accidental Poet 2014