Straining on an elusive thought
That teased me to capture it.
I not the master, but the writer
Of what is sent to me as I write.
Is it life that appears in print
Or just an active imagination?
How can one be divorced
From the other, saucer and cup.
Liquefied they are unique-
One must have their ham and eggs,
A glass of beer to flush it down
Before you can say you have lived.
Love and Light,
Lily
Sandie