Friday, June 1, 2012

Muse and cues suffuse

Poetry grips me and consumes,
Cautiously I trudge into,
Subjects varied among.

Nature envelopes me
Shrouding my thoughts in color,
Chronic recurrent words seem.

A lack of imagination,
And a fear of the taboo,
Curbs my assortment.

Never the sights of greatness,
Will I ever get to glimpse,
Nor the peaks of triumph.

A simple glee nonetheless,
Prevails in each completion,
Of every middling verse.