This gift that I've been given
Of finding words that rhyme--
The first that some are humorous
While others seem sublime--
The urge that comes upon me
At morning, noon, or night--
To reach for pad and pencil
And causes me to write--
When words begin to fall in place,
And thoughts begin to fall in place,
It's almost like a sudden wind
That comes before a storm
I know I must not hesitate
To write it down, and fast--
For that's the only way I know
To make this great gift last!

And, through it all I realize
This wondrous debt I owe
To God above whose caring love
Has made this talent grow!

by Jane Vance Rule

Other poems of RULE (1)

Comments (2)

This is an Original poem Sandra, Disturbing vision...
Sandra, this poem is quite interesting and unusually written. If your morphing you are doing it well. Top marks and thanks for sharing it my friend. David