Poem Hunter
My Head
(25th March 1943 / )

My Head

My head is 'whirring',
A poem is 'stirring',
Inside my mind
Which is resigned
To producing nothing
Except some 'cussing'.

My head is 'clanging',
A poem is 'hanging',
In mid-air somewhere,
And Oh, I do care
To get it out.
Without a doubt!

My head is 'lifting',
A poem is 'shifting'
About, and ready
To come out steady,
And with some luck,
Will not get 'stuck'!

My head is 'clearing',
A poem is 'nearing'
Completion now,
And now somehow,
I feel a conclusion
Is no longer an 'illusion'.

My head is 'delighting'
A poem is in 'writing',
Clearly written,
And now I am 'smitten'
With composing again.
Can I be 'SANE'! .

© Ernestine Northover

User Rating: 4,9 / 5 ( 30 votes ) 8

Comments (8)

I've been here so many times Ernestine, I can never settle until I've finished a poem. Great write. Love, Andrew xx
I know nothing about child-birth, but this sounds like a poem-birth. Exquisite style. Ten. A favourite.
Nice one Ernestine know that 'Whirring' feeling especially after a few Glenlivets.Sid John xx
Dear Ernestine Yet another piece of inspiration to aspire to. Many Thanks Hope You Don't Mind If I Use Idea For Next One. Much Love Duncan
This is so true when writing or even trying to write....nice!
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