Writing


I look upon the day
out my window the sun
is pinning away,
as I sip on my coffee.
I taste bitter and sweet
with white froffy cream
that turned the coffee
a lite brown.

My mind is an open book,
thoughts play out like story’s
as I am wandering through
forests of idea’s, 
I came to a clearing.
Where all is quite and surreal,
here is where all
my great writings have gathered.

I placed each one in a jar
labelled and categorised,
waiting to be posted
smeared apon these page’s.

My work is never done,
for the geers are always turning,
and my thoughts are always churning,
preparing My next writings.

I love pondering on poetry
and great author’s of the past,
you can call me an old soul
if you’d like,
but my inspiration comes
from the past and from
early year’s of history.

You can learn a lot from
writer’s who most forgot,
because all modern writing
had to have a beginning.

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