To Catch a Poem Poetry’s like the wind you know, Words zip they come they go. You rush to put your ideas to pen, For they might not return again. The best are captured when emotions are high, Nabbing them up as they pass. Now a calm shows up … You scratch your head, The words are gone, your poem is dead. Then a stirring starts and prior to you know, You are writing as fast as your pen can go. Unannounced a tempest might sweep you away As a poem knows neither night nor day. Do not hesitate to open your heart, For that is the place a poem begins. One day in the attic cold and gray, They will find the poems that you hid. And much like the wind, they will never die, For you recorded the heart as the words flew by. Ruby Palmer ~ June 1999
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