My mind is a storm
Of words,
Of verse,
Of things to be.

Like a cauldron
Its mixed,
Sipped,
To find the right word
Starting,
Ending
What will they be.

My mind is a muddle
What shall it be.

What ever I write
Its for me to decide,
The way it
starts,
Finishes,
Its is up to the words to decide.