-- Writing into Oblivion --

John Herlihy

For a few years now, I am on course,

Writing poems to my heart’s content.

Such outpouring with little remorse,

No cause for sorrow and no lament.

I might write myself into oblivion,

Without so very much left to say.

Now bereft of all accrued wisdom,

Ambling along my own solitary way.

It has been fine while my muse lasted,

She was with me every step and stumble.

Oh, how I wish her whispers be extended,

Otherwise, I must resort to mere mumble.

My muse comes to me of her own free will,

I await her enchantment in patience still.

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(c) John Herlihy 31 March 2020