This feeling - this pull
Surging so urgent -
this feeling - this pull -
tugs me to pages
that beg to be full.
I twist in the twirling -
that hurls at my mind -
searching for words
to lay on the line.
No theme and no focus -
no issue - no pain -
no reason - no measure -
no glory to gain.
Small pieces of present -
and patterns of past -
fight to be fashioned
and call to be cast.
They roll into rhythm
along a straight line -
stand at attention -
then ease into rhyme.
Joy Weare,
10th December, 2011.
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