Once he sits with pen in hand

Even though he has nothing planned

It is essential he writes.

Those thoughts that stay are good

Others he allows take flight

They may yet find a place to roost

Their time will come.

When that time comes to pass

He will write to the sound of a different drum

Not getting overly excited

That never assists the cause.

It helps him in his endeavour though

To step back and take stock

Then mind refreshed, head decluttered

Return to his writing desk

Read what is already penned

He being the sole judge and jury

On leave well enough alone or amend.

(c) Chris Black. December 2018

#Poetry #amwriting

~The Poet’s Poet~


5 thoughts on “Dilettante

      1. That’s a bright spark
        A preview of tomorrows poem
        A world debut for you
        The heart of the matter
        A conundrum of chatter
        I wrote a poem after a stroke
        Who’s left to row the boat
        Inside a brain covered with spots
        There’s a sail full of mini-clots I know she broke my heart
        But how does an infection start
        There’s to be a deep soul search
        My heart needs more deep research

        Liked by 1 person

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