Locked in a pattern producing rhyme
Flowing along with the passing of time
Brain sending messages my fingers to receive
These words bounce and flow and weave.
It is quite hard for me to swallow
That poetry’s a recipe to follow
But rules are rules and they are able
To keep my mind all straight and stable.
I am not perfect and need directing
As each word I write I am perfecting
And learning a way for this to be
Something wondrous for all to see.
© Kris Blackburn 28/08/2015