A Poem

I wish I could write a poem, pretty as can be,
Somehow, though, my mind is not on it,” mercy me”!
I've thought and thought on it and think my head is full of air
I want so badly to write a good poem, but my head don't care.
Next time I'll deal with my heart; it’s in far better shape
Maybe it could think better if I'm making a cake.
I always love reading others, pretty as can be
Much of my thinking must come straight outta me.
Maybe if I pretend to be a writer, just as cool as you
Then I could write a posy, surely sweet and true.
As I awaken tomorrow, might my head hold a thought?
If only it would, oh gee, my poems just might, be bought.
Of course, they’d sell for a shilling and happy I’d be
Maybe buy me a ship and sail way out, on a blue green sea.
Sit out there and keep looking back at the seashore
All the while wishing I could write books galore.
When I awake tomorrow maybe, my sense will have grown
Then I can write as if I'm bright and nevermore moan.
I’d write to friends and kin. I’d write to others too.
But, please don’t Ya tell anyone what I just told you!

Copyright © Pearlie Duncan Walker