An Exercise (Stopping to write words on a typical evening)

Whose words these are I think I know

His name has slipped my memory, though

He will not see me writing here

to watch this pen fill in this row

_________

My puzzled mind must think it queer

to write without a plot-line near

between the twists and turns I take

the pages lead me through the year

_________

I give my drowsy head  a shake

to ask if there is some mistake

The only other move’s the creep

of pencil poised in hands that quake

 

_________

His words are lovely, dark and deep

but I seek joyful thoughts to keep

and words to write before I sleep

and words to write before I sleep

 

 

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