right place, write time

i’ve been mad for f*%##$! years,
words in arrears and fears they would never
be read before I’m dead. (Even after, I’m sure).
file cabinet full and spilling to the floor.

trolling the world wide waters I found this clever
invitation, luring my stagnation of words
into the radiant bright sunshine in rhyme.
the unexpected under-achiever, and what’s more

the guy who couldn’t get his words to fly
no matter how he tried. who’s to say a poem
a day was the way to have my words read let alone, heard?
but my word, it brought me to let my words soar.

did I plan to be a poet? ever?
If you had asked me then, I’d have said, “absurd!”

 

(C) Copyright Walter J Wojtanik – 2014