*It is impossible to say just what I mean!

 

1. C. J. Black

Here I was floundering – all at sea out in the poetry garden

Mind in turmoil – sitting beneath the poetry tree seeking pardon –

It was as though I had been thrown a lifeline – a lifebuoy filled with words

I grabbed at it valiantly – (it) manufactured from the skin of gourds.

 

The fruits of my labour were showing signs of blooming

Words planted on a this page I can continue grooming

By the time I have concluded I should have a tasty dish?

This is quite apposite to what is going on here once I’ve found the right ingredient.

 

Kneading the dough and moistening it with alphabet soup

Words will be its essence I must then place them in a group –

So when I wish to choose a word it will be close at hand

And this poem will give food for thought, be made difficult to understand.

 

What inspired me to write this poem? – In Memory of W. B. Yeats –

A poem by W. H. Auden another of those poetic greats

“The death of the poet was kept from his poems”

“He disappeared in the dead of winter: “Earth, received an honoured guest:

1.   C. J. Black©β

Wednesday, 06 May 2015

*A line from – The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T. S. Eliot.