THE DAY THE WORDS REFUSED TO RHYME

THE DAY THE WORDS REFUSED TO RHYME

This morning all my poems woke, yet none would speak to me,

They hid themselves between the lines, where no one else could see.

I searched through every silent thought, each corner of my mind,

But every word I’d ever loved was nowhere left to find.

I called them softly, one by one, their silence answered back,

As though they’d wandered far beyond some hidden poet’s track.

Then one appeared and smiled at me, as quiet as could be,

“We’ve not deserted you,” it said, “we’ve only wandered free.

We sometimes need forgotten roads, where strangers never roam,

For every poem lost awhile returns with something home

So now when all my verses fade, I never call it wrong,

They’re simply out collecting dreams, to make a better song.

I listened to the empty room, the silence seemed to stare,

A little piece of something strange was floating through the air

I reached to catch the wandering thought, but watched it disappear,

Then heard a tiny whisper say, “You nearly had me there.

I looked beneath the tablecloth, behind the old settee,

I searched the corners of my mind for what I could not see

The words were playing hide and seek, they knew I couldn’t win,

They’d locked themselves inside my head and wouldn’t let me in.

Then suddenly they tumbled out, like rain upon the floor,

A thousand words I’d never heard came knocking at my door

They pushed and shoved and jostled round, demanding to be free,

And every one began a line that sounded strange to me.

So if one day your words go quiet, don’t assume they’ve gone,

Some poems hide in darkness till they’re ready to come on

And when they finally find you, you may wonder where they’ve been,

For sometimes the best poems are the ones that won’t be seen.

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