Always When Iím Naked
or what writers really do on an evening
Always when Iím naked, usually in bed,
Poetic thoughtsí tend to pop into my head.
Urgent to get them down, I reach for my pad and pen
but to my woe things have gone astray
so itís a case of Ďhere we go again.í
And so the hunt beginsÖ
A skinny wraith, dancing by windows with panic-stricken grace
Wearing a look of literary discovery upon a worried face.
A skeleton with a hose attached, not a sight to behold,
especially for those of faint heart or nervously disposed.
All the time trying to remember what it is, thatís in my head
whilst at the same time filling the neighbours full of dread.
When I do find paper and pen
And rush back up stairs again
I jump on the bed and get comfy in a literate repose
then forget what it was, I was supposed to compose.
Seems such a waste, all that haste,
Still! Itís a good excuse to play with my hose.
P Williams © 2005