Writing Poetry.


DSC_0340I stuck my head outside the door
confirming what I knew before
that the temperature was already high
more than I wanted to give it a try
although not yet peaked, it was morning still
the afternoon would be in for the kill
and the thermometer could go high
maybe all the way to one hundred and five.

Today’s heat might well be
the hottest day that we will see
although a lot of Summer remains
fifty five more days the Calendar claims
as Autumn starts September 22nd
when it comes it will feel like heaven
compared to what is outside my door
although we have been here many times before.

I would like to go on another hike
so that I have something to write
but I do not want to brave the heat
and inside the house will be a treat
I can sit and write to my heart’s content
bad poetry as my thoughts relent
as words spill out in a jumbled mess
putting my brain to the test.

Somedays the words really flow
and on one of those days is when I know
that the words that I write will sound fine
and the poem will reach it’s end in rhyme
for it is not easy to write good verse
especially when it is at it’s worst
and the only reason to try to write
is the temperature outside is so bloody high.

5 thoughts on “Writing Poetry.

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