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Averse to Flooding


What a life of privilege,

retired from earning’s wear,

my partner as my carer,

with time for verse to dare;

a company of people

who’ve chosen words as well,

yet know the limitations

our bodies, minds compel.


I thought there’d be more writing -

I’ve quite a queue myself -

but wouldn’t open floodgates,

so leave them on the shelf.

But stacks are daily groaning,

waits, weekly, seem so long;

I’ve more long hours spare, it’s clear,

my promptings too headstrong.


My routine most think boring,

from dawn to night, The Wall,

awaiting lines, bill postings,

from rhymers to blank scrawl.

I’ll cheat today, submit now,

so far from knockout blow -

a simple little ditty,

but felt should let you know.


So if you have a few lines,

starter for ten suffice,

or seek a little guidance,

there’s some could share advice.

I guess I’ll post mine elsewhere -

so many other sites,

but they’re not preferred poets,

wordsmiths PD unites.

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