Beginning V

5 of 12 in the Jemverse series ’12 months IV’

To the New Year a promise
here made to ones self
to remain true to form
and with all of my wealth
to capture from life
one day at a time
its essence in words
and transpose to line
Resolution here made
with every intention
to keep and to hold
and daily to mention
for these are my words
and this is my gift
from a poet to you
your spirits to lift
So with new beginning
I’ll start with intent
for here is a promise
wholeheartedly meant

©Jemverse

Photo – Jempics

Poem found

I found a good word
which would make a good start
at the front of a poem
of which it was part

So I placed it right there
and thought of the rest
and the spaces they’d fill
where they’d look their best

And when it was done
and the order was sound
I read the words back
of the poem I’d found

©Jemverse

Photo – Jempics

Inspiration II

What is my inspiration?
I’ve been asked this many times
where do I as poet find
the substance for these lines?

Well, there’s a simple answer
because it’s all about the things
that I see all around me
and the pleasure that all brings

For there is something lovely
to be found, I find, and said
to bring a ray of sunshine
when, if truth be told, instead

the reality is something else
and forgiven we would be
for feeling pretty miserable
about most things we see

But there’s the ‘rub’ of course as well
the gift of every poet
to sew the seeds of happiness
in words, and don’t we know it!

For here is opportunity
to paint a picture that
the reader can escape to
and keep sanity intact

So what’s my inspiration?
it is all I see and do
which I will duly craft to words
and daily bring to you.

©Jemverse

Photo – Jempics

New Pen

New pen, the scratch on paper
just like a living thing
finding words quite quickly
to make it cry or sing

Poised, it waits with patience
then leaps to life when I
find the words here needed
upon this page to lie

And there they stay just resting
until the time is right
for them to see the light of day
and find their own limelight

©Jemverse

Photo – Jempics

Five in the morning

Five in the morning
September, still dark
and as usual midweek
I’m up with the lark
The world is still silent
the night not yet done
though a tinge in the East
shows the morning has come

And a whisper seems loud
like a shout as my pen
scratches the surface
with sounds now and then
As words from my mind
find the surface and lay
fresh on the paper
with something to say

And I love this still time
it is as a friend
a comfort and solace
on which to depend
It instils inspiration
unmeasured and free
to use and exploit
by the poet in me

©Jemverse

Photo – Jempics

Stationary

I’m nearing the end of my poetry book
reason here to rejoice
for it means a new one will start really soon
leaving simply the problem of choice

For I’ve notebooks a-plenty just waiting for me
to write my poems inside
as I can’t resist when a new one I see
no matter how hard I’ve tried

©Jemverse

Photo – Jempics

Spinning words

Sought after, captured
the words like a star
Precious like diamonds
and seen from afar
Nurtured and fashioned
committed to pen
falling to page
to ponder and then
when story is told
and deed it is done
the poet can rest
from the words he has spun

©Jemverse

Photo – Jempics

Words Waiting

I am an early hour
when the quiet of night
shouts loud
and a pen hovers
heavy over virgin sheets
with words waiting

I am a tired eye
close to slumber and yet
awake to words
For this is poetry
captured in an instant
waiting for no one
There on the cusp
of inspiration

©Jemverse

Photo – Jempics

Simple pleasures

Writing in my little book
really brings me pleasure
just crafting lines of poetry
to hold and yes, to treasure
I just can’t stop myself I find
I simply have to write
be that in the daytime
or late into the night

As when the words are out there
the poet has no choice
but to sit and write and capture them
so others can rejoice

For when the reader sits there
and sees in their mind’s eye
the place the words they came from
and smiles and breathes a sigh
that magic is repeated
time and time again
with lines re-read, repeated
in a poem’s sweet refrain

And if as me a poet
can, when writing takes a hold
capture just a part of that
it’s as precious as pure gold

For though stopping isn’t possible
it’s really nice to know
that pleasure is repeated
from my words when in full flow
So I’ll take that simple pleasure
as I really like to give
pouring out the joy that comes
from words that simply live

©Jemverse

Photo – Jempics

Hot III

I thought I’d write a poem
but my pen was really hot
I’d left it out in sunshine
so the poem it was not
At least for just a while
til the pen it had cooled down
then I could write the words
on this page without a frown

©Jemverse

Photo – Jempics