Shelflife of a Poem
I listen to my heart
and dip pen to page
as i dip myself into life.
Experiences of people and places
cover life and page.
Change is felt and disrupts
momentarily like a stone dropped into a reflective pool ripples outwards.
Words bubbles and cloud.
Sentiment and relevance lost.
Is poem of no value now?
I never look behind me and
wonder if my poems are valueless.
My poems reflect my life.
Rose coloured glasses fell off
not long ago and i see images
differently now to what i did.
When i was a child i spake like a child.
Experience and maturity has thrown
a new light on my perspective.
Poems reflect my life.
Mistakes are made during life.
I learn from them.
Poems are of the moment and
are like catching lightning in a bottle.
A moment passes and what was
once truth is changed and
loses its clarity and is memory.
