Inside my head there's a wild riot-
Of dreams, expressions and a sudden thought.
I cast about for words that rhyme-
And string them together in no time.
But what if they do not make much sense?
Rhyming can go to hell..I drop all pretense.
Forgetting all about the work at hand-
I'm magically transported to an imaginary land,
Where I am free to spin marvellous tales-
About gallant men and picturesque vales.
There's never a dull moment or a forlorn me-
Whenever I write...it's pure ecstasy.
Of dreams, expressions and a sudden thought.
I cast about for words that rhyme-
And string them together in no time.
But what if they do not make much sense?
Rhyming can go to hell..I drop all pretense.
Forgetting all about the work at hand-
I'm magically transported to an imaginary land,
Where I am free to spin marvellous tales-
About gallant men and picturesque vales.
There's never a dull moment or a forlorn me-
Whenever I write...it's pure ecstasy.
Best regards,
