They wander loose within my mind;
these words my humble writings find.
They twist and turn within my brain;
I let them out or go insane.
Sometimes I see them on their own,
like single seeds the wind has blown
into a paddock full of weeds
and in my mind those tiny seeds
can grow because there’s room to spare
(I’m told there’s not much else up there).
Then I sit down and out they flow
aligned like ducks – a nice neat row.
they hang there on my minds own wall
till onto paper they do fall.
Sometimes they’re jumbled, with no sense;
grown wild and free – no plough or fence.
But then there’s others touch my heart
till fingers on my keyboard start
to make the stories words do tell
and I’m released then from their spell.