Were I a man less fortunate
If I could not my words express
Would I not humbly shun the light
And all my boundless thoughts compress.
My heart is full and begs release
Outpourings flow from deep within
And words flood out and take their form
Of love and pain, and life and sin.
To sit and wait these countless times
Considering this or that to say
Thoughts writ in beguiling form
Thus written they then speed on their way.
Characters flit betwixt mine eyes
So fast sometimes I cannot catch
Letters caught in mêlée furious
I place them here or there to match.
When all these letters are thus laid down
In words to make some form or sense
Then read by one’s discerning eye
With open mind and no pretence.
Who reads these words I cannot know
But surely if when read they think
That thoughts they have become theirs now
Thus quill or pen make seamless link.
©Joe Wilson – to express oneself…2014