This poem is number 600
Of poems I have "published" on the Web.
My steady enthusiasm for writing
Poetry hasn't started to ebb.

That's six hundred since the spring
Of the year twenty fourteen. Okay,
I know I sound like a chatterbox,
But I thought I had a lot to say.

The process is electrifying:
It happens after I immerse
Myself in an ocean of thoughts and feelings
And out pop my comments in verse.

There's always something to write about--
Something to question, discuss or explore.
Some might say, "Enough! Enough!"
While others say, "Give me more!"

I've always admired a great poet
With a facile tongue and a flowing pen.
I'll never be a Shakespeare or Milton,
A Wordsworth, Keats, or Shelley, but then

That's not important. I'll still write poems.
If one of them strikes a chord that will be
Nice; but if a poem falls flat,
All I can say is, "C'est la vie!"

If there is a lull in my writing,
Do not fret, for goodness' sake.
I probably haven't kicked the bucket;
I'm probably just taking a break.

-by Bob B (9-5-17)