It would be nice to write a verse <br />that had the power to reach your hearts <br />to reach the poetic charts <br />that stuns the readers' minds <br />and carries the music of angelic harps <br />a poem with the wit and pith <br />of a wordsmith, genius with <br />an idiotic twist of Milligan <br />and the flowing prose of Edgar Allen Poe <br />but all I can write is this <br />a flimsy verse of withered words <br />about a longing, a desire of mine <br />to make these words both flow and rhyme <br />with subtle meanings thought <br />on starry journeys of wistful dreams <br />down sparkling streams of effervescent <br />bubbled themes that froth and babble <br />through sweet scented groves of <br />olive trees resting fragrantly in repose <br />but heaven knows it's not in me <br />to make a flowery petal'd prose <br />that fits into stylish rhythmic verse <br />and mirrors in its majesty <br />the beauty of the moon or sea <br />as a pauper I must be sure to know <br />the unrelenting stream of words that flow <br />and go straight to readers' hearts <br />are not to be written by my hand <br />but perhaps with a fine fine net <br />I might just catch some music, rhyme <br />as with worded chimes <br />they fly past my heart and mind.<br /><br />David Taylor<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/poem-catcher/
