Having fun with words and rhyme.

[image: dolomyte.com]

The Thrill is Gone

I wish I were a poet so I could write of love
With zest and zeal and sex appeal and other things thereof;
I’d select words that tap my passions
That leave you numb and speechless
That reveal to you just how I feel
My strengths and perhaps a weakness.

Alas my life is nearly spent while I in darkness lay
I shunned the truth misspent my youth while both have slipped away;
There are no words that guide me
That reach for the sublime
I merely chase false dreams it seems
That betray me every time.

Oh youth where is thy glory oh life where is thy fame
I’ve lost you both without the growth and reaped the darkest shame;
And now I look to heaven
For a little inspiration
To help me find one thing divine
As my final consolation.

A thunder rolls across the land it rattles every pore
It shakes the trees disrupts the breeze from here to distant shore;
A mighty hand emerges
From cloudy skies above
Then starts to write in verses light
Of life and limb and love.

I’m caught up in the rapture enveloped by the storm
I see the wisdom of the ages my life in rapt transform;
“Toss your pen into the ocean
Forsake your writing skills
I’d say your words are for the birds
No flash no fun no thrills."