Friday, 9 January 2009

THE UNIMAGINATIVE POET


One fine morning I eagerly rose,
My mind full of poetry and lucid prose,
Down I sat with my golden pen,
Thinking of what has to be written.
Images and ideas fluttered through my mind,
But in the end I left them all behind,
Seconds passed into minutes,
Minutes into hour
My imagination seemed to have
turned a bit sour!
I had a spark out of the blue,
But my pen seemed stuck with superglue!
I blamed my pen, I blamed the paper,
I blamed everyone, prince and pauper
Thoughts, visions and inspirations
Seemed to have vanished
Leaving me wondering
How to get this replenished,
Suddenly a torrent of verses
flashed through my heart,
Giving my wings of prosy
A badly needed start.
My pen started to flow
and made my paper glow,
Assuring me that
everything was in tow,
Hence everyday morning I eagerly rise,
Scheming how to win life's everyday prize!

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