Who has the time to spend in thought

And end up creating words that mesmerize.

Such is a poets good fortune daily

If he is blessed with these words.

I mull and think a lot

But seldom do the words cooperate.

I, but a simple writer, putting in words

What the good Lord has blessed me with.

And to Him I owe it all.

He who thinks and never acknowledges

Where his talent may have come from.

Is a fool at best and a deceiver,

Thinking his talent is his alone.