Michael’s wonderful reflective poem on writing, Wednesdays and the decline during the week.
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It’s barely the middle of the week
I stand triumphant on the peak
Of another wonderful Wednesday.
Words have flowed from my mind
Down through my fingers
Across the screen in a logical way.
It gets like that early in the week
When ideas flow, the skies your limit
With nothing to lose and no one to impress
Its all a matter of words, words, words.
Have you ever wondered why it is?
That from today its like pulling teeth
Finding the word that will match the metre
So that by Friday it’s a jumble
A pile of meaningless piffle
Gathering at your feet as they fall to the floor.
Thank God I say as Monday arrives
I pick up handfuls of illogical words
Throw them at the screen and watch them dance
As they push and shove their way once again
To form the sense that eluded me before.
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