I look through all my papers.
I search but cannot find.
Exploring notes and all my files,
I hunt my absent mind.
But I can't find them anywhere.
I seek throughout the day.
I cannot sleep as stars come out
Have I something to say?
I'd like to write of God above
and all His majesty.
Unless I take the time to pray,
those words will never be.
But I can't find the words to use.
Thoughts pierce me like a knife.
My life could be much better if
pure words rhymed with my life.
Escapes me, too, the letters
that float away on streams,
winding through the rapids fast,
that disappear with dreams.
Oh, how can rhyming phrases flow
and sentences galore -
when I can't find mere letters here?
My phrases come no more.
If only I could find them...
the words, so you could know 'em,
then I could write the stanzas down
in one breathtaking poem.
Instead, I search inside myself.
With absent prayers, my words -
just float away on rivers or
are carried off with birds...
So here I sit with naught to say,
so let me just be frank.
Who'd care to read another line?
(intentionally left blank)
©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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