Continuously sowing the seed

Through the raindrops at dawn

A pale shy sun peeps from behind moving clouds

The shrouded landscape, an invitation to sit and write

Write silently, speak aloud

The perfect poem – if there is such a poem

To be perfect, will harbour many takes

Filled with exuberance

Dwelling on the mystique he recalls, stories of old

Stories that now lend themselves to various interpretations

Yet even down the years continue to be that inspiration

All life is a bridge to poetry.

(c)Poetry from The ManShed

03/09/19