Gone Are The Unborn Poems
Gone are
The unborn poems of
Recent weeks.
A longing to release them
Speaks
Within.
Alas
They are past
Like a tempest
Intense on its passage.
But the wake is
Long
Left to another place
Another face
Another person’s page.
I leave it to that sage
To seize the moment
And reveal
The poem
That others too
May feel
Its rhythm and rhyme
In their own time.
Simon C.J. Falk 11 January 2018
Hike More. Camp More. Swim More.
The Unique Art of Richard Foote
Writing about Reading and Reading about Writing
Fiction writer
There's a new sun burning, and soft fruits ripening, my precious grizzled tresses tumbling, Dylan's humming 'The times they are a changing', these parting verses are mere shadows merging ...
An Empyrean Cycle
Virtual verse from a viewpoint
Daydreaming and then, maybe, writing a poem about it. And that's my life.
Virtual verse from a viewpoint
Award-winning Indian Book Blogger
Dogs*Life*Music*Photography*Travel*Writing
NO RULES FOR THIS GAME
Virtual verse from a viewpoint
Stories and photos from Scotland
Pen to paper
Seeking the magic and light in life's journeys
Keep Moving Forward
Simon's still stanza 
Hi Simon – I hope things continue to improve … your poem rings so true – we do think of things to write … yet they become past time’s prime to write up … so many I have. Cheers Hilary
The thoughts that we think when our hands are busy with other things often go inside and hide when the pen or keyboard comes into view.