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Woops! Trouble lurks ahead.
I feel a poem coming on.
Will I control each line
Or, am I merely a pawn?

I feel a bursting of ideas,
With far too many themes.
With hidden potential,
I fairly burst my seams.

Is there time enough?
Someone may knock on my door.
I may be caught with lines
Strewn all across the floor.

What I feared has happened;
The phone rang and I talked.
My train of thought was broken.
No verse can I now concoct.

I was excited over something
That became nothing at all.
Still, I learned when the phone rings,
I must not answer the call.


By The_Pip2

© 2019 The_Pip2 (All rights reserved)


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