Before me sits a white white page
With nothing written on it.
I'd like to catch some fleeting thought
And force my brain to spawn it.
But every time I grasp at it,
It seems to grow new wings,
And all my mind can conjure up
Involves disjointed things.
And so it must be up to me
To stash the thought and flee,
Hoping some day very soon
My mind again breaks free.
The End
Hank Lefevre, author of "A Spoonful of Humor."
available through Amazon.com
Regis
Be safe,
Karen
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :D
God Bless,
Lew