Eloquence would have me write with far greater finesseBut words just flow from fingers gnarled by ageAnd all such things as find their way to sit amongst my angstAre those which surely must have been their best.Yet as we search inside our brains for inspirationWith fingers hovered o’er keyboards that just lie idleAnother thought may yet appear before usAnd at a tangent off we travel in irritation.Arriving where? We do not always knowBut onward pushing forward to the lightUntil perhaps we see a glow beyond the darkThen once again the words begin to flow.But are the thoughts worth your considerationWho can say what words will work for allYet fingers once they charge across the pageAre not too easily swayed from their direction. An inescapable truth lies here before meI find myself in rambling mode once more I’ll get my stuff and bother you now lessAnd take my coat and wander through the door.©JoeW 2024…Rambling