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.