I had a poem, with great rhymes
Two verses I should have written
But it was not at the right time
'Put that away - it's breakfast time!
Did I write one word, if so where?
I sigh. I search. 'Don't scratch your hair!'
It isn't here. It isn't there.
It's floating somewhere in the air.
Maybe like the sun and the rain
The same thoughts will return again
Next time I'll fight for writers' right
To sacrifice now for later sight
Ease my frustration and my pain
Though others shout, 'Come back to bed!'
I'll capture magic in my head
Face any loss, for fleeting fame.
-ends-
I try to reverse today's thoughts
And hope some glimpse of it is caught
I'm sad to say it's blown away
That pearl, that gem, from yesterday
Sometimes a thought will strike at night
I hope it will last till daylight
Resist the urge to stop and write
Lose sleep to swap for word's delight
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