No poems would come today
as I went to the usual places,
Or as I walked the worn old ways
just staring at the same sad faces.
But still no poems came today
no fierce fire of words burning,
So bright to lead me on my way
no ; I was left bereft and yearning.
And still no poems came today
and no matter how often I raged,
Or how my worn mind was flayed
all the words would do was fade.
But ; when all was nearly over
and at the very dying of the day,
Soft ; like the touch of a lover
finally a poem came today.