Words are visiting the Man Shed
Legends, he thought
They move across his line of vision
He mops his brow, stops fretting
Time for a shot of caffine
Photographing in his mind
What it is he wishes to say.
Now his cup overfloweth
Words, lightening conductors
Lurking in all corners of the mind.
Angling for a way out
Anxious to make a statement
Being under the microscope
On top of his game
Creating memories, is what he is about
Painting a rainbow of words.
Moving through the good and bad moments
Cascading onto a blank page
Filling those gaps with poetic thoughts
He bows, bends a knee
Salutes those words which came to visit
As the sun balloons in the sky
Contented he closes his copybook.
(c) Chris Black. August 2018
~The Poet’s Poet~
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