My Head

My head is 'whirring',
A poem is 'stirring',
Inside my mind
Which is resigned
To producing nothing
Except some 'cussing'.

My head is 'clanging',
A poem is 'hanging',
In mid-air somewhere,
And Oh, I do care
To get it out.
Without a doubt!

My head is 'lifting',
A poem is 'shifting'
About, and ready
To come out steady,
And with some luck,
Will not get 'stuck'!

My head is 'clearing',
A poem is 'nearing'
Completion now,
And now somehow,
I feel a conclusion
Is no longer an 'illusion'.

My head is 'delighting'
A poem is in 'writing',
Clearly written,
And now I am 'smitten'
With composing again.
Can I be 'SANE'! .

poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!