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You Know Me Well
by louis gander My breath on pane is all in vain. It's bitter cold outside. With fog on glass, the hours pass. I swallow deep, my pride. The plume atop my quill would stop with only me to thank. There are no herds of rhyming words. My frozen mind is blank. I pray to God but find it odd that rhyme's don't come to me. At any cost I am so lost. Is this just meant to be? But it is rare, that I would dare to leave before I write. Though inkwell's here words disappear on parchment through the night. Not thinking 'prose' my words are froze just as it is outdoors - with barren trees all stripped of leaves, like extinct dinosaurs. Now I confess that I digress from what I want to say. It sure does seem I'm losing steam. My poem drifts away. Should I explore my mind some more - that's vast as the frontier - or let you think I'm out of ink and end this poem here? Oh, what's the use for such a truce? I'm finished anyhow. I sure can tell you know me well. You're raising one eyebrow. Copyright 2021 by louis gander. Poetry for sermons, story poems and more... If you love story poems, then you'll love ganderpoems.org / no ads, no sign-up, no tracking. Just free inspirational poetry. Article Source: http://www.faithwriters.com |