Thoughts meandering, On a river of subconscious verse. A motion for a notion, Of unfulfilled liaisons, Between memory and fact. Too many meanings, The poets curse, Has seen me slip behind. And litany’s and melodies, Play havoc with my mind. A punnet for a sonnet, A play about a priest. A painting to believe in, Of believers at a feast. Thoughts meandering, On a stream of unwritten rhyme. There’s a island in the future, Where I may garner some relief. If only I can bridge the gap, Between fantasy and belief.