I felt the smallest of glimmers of a poem
it was there near the front of my mind
then something more pressing needed doing
the glimmer just vanished leaving nothing behind.

Now I sit with my pen poised over paper
hopeful for its return like a friend
for it might show itself as it so often does
ideas in my head tend to follow this trend.

Then comes the rush as it all flows at once
I write with an amazing turn of speed
I have to get it down while it sits in my head
Till the last full stop satisfies that need.

All done now, I put pen and paper aside
leave the room with the ode in my head
later to return and juggle with the words
whether to use this or that one instead.

The glimmer of a poem just entered my head
this time I've made a note to remind
now I'll return my attention to this one
as I untangle these thoughts in my mind.

Joe Wilson - in ictu oculi... 2014