I decided to write a poem
Not knowing
What the theme would be
I had nothing to say
At that moment in time
But I knew the rhyme
Would come like
Child's play
Like water falling
To the ground
Like the invasion
Of bird sounds
In the morning
Like a woman's
Monthly mood
Like a summer storm's
Warning

So it came
As it should
As I knew it would
And then I was in a pickle
Because I needed to afix
An ending to the thing
A finish with a flourish
A tasty pastry, perhaps

But I gave up

Sean Hunt
Windermere Feb 3 2016