Sometimes I let my mind wander
Hoping a thought will come to me.
I always welcome God's help
In supplying a needed idea.
Then it happens out of the blue.
A word, a sentence that I add too,
And I'm off and running,
And in the end a poem is born.
Never knew how it would turn out
Or what the ending would be.
Each line just falls in place,
And the ending takes care of itself.
I'm sure all the old masters
Gave much more thought
To what they would write about,
And certainly knew the ending.
But I'm a simple poet
With just simple words
That I hope turn out ok,
And that would be a good ending.