When words are lost against their will
A search party will insue
The poet will look for just the right word
For nothing else will do

Sometimes he'll look for days on end
While conspiring with his muse
But no matter how hard the poet looks
There's nothing else he can use

The other words stand so tall and proud
Hoping to fill his space
But the poet keeps looking both day and night
With determination all over his face

The letters paitently wait their turn
To fill the poet's quill
But until he finds that special word
None of them ever will

And just when he's almost given up
A whisper from his muse makes him smile
He found the word that he couldn't find
Although it took him a while