Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2017
It was a still life watercolour,
I could picture in my mind.
'The dangling conversation,'
Of a song,
I could not find.
Down the street a dog was barking,
'One too many mornings'
Disturbed my reverie.
As the words of Dylan's song,
Came floating back to me.
Like a play on life unwritten,
This poet's unpublished desire,
For an ambition not forgotten,
I'm still wishing on a star.
So I'm oft defining,
What measures I should take.
Random thoughts of words and prose,
That keep me wide awake.
When at last sleep has taken over,
And silent words have been said.
How many lines of treasure?
Have been lost within my head.
How many times do I wake and rise,
And hurry off to write.
A line or two, to see me through,
Another sleepless night
The dangling conversation-Paul Simon song.
One too many mornings- Bob Dylan song.
Philip Warwick
Written by
Philip Warwick  70/M/Berkshire
Please log in to view and add comments on poems