It will never dry up that well
even with the sun shining fell
Ever when the water runs low
there is some subterranean flow
drip-feeding the reservoir of water
keeping the level above care and bother
So I don't worry myself senseless
even when I write words rhyme less
Because I remember that down below
the verses linger, waiting to grow
forming beautiful themes all fresh,
painting with words rippling like flesh.
But for the moment I am dry
however hard I try
no wonderful words come tumbling
out of my hands now fumbling
searching for combinations unspoken
but finding all verses are broken.
~~
Just trying to catch some rhyming mood, It's been gone to long.
Oh, I still stumble on the odd rhyming phrase, but stringing them together kind of stems the flow.
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