Saturday, 3 November 2012


Sometimes the mind boils, bubbling,
Yet flavourless, as water.

Perhaps a conceit or concept
Will seethe for days - or moments.

Maybe the stock will be savoury:
Maybe insipid and thin.

Adding the garnish - rhythm and styles -
Should make poem; or verse,

But no ingredients disguise
A poor stock.

Here it is now - reader,
Is this to your taste?

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I'm glad to hear how this strikes you!