An archaic mind ( extra stanza )
I used to think I was born with a archaic mind,I saw the stars and saw them shine.
I never guessed that in this vast universe,
Poetry comes from within over time.
That I would find my Mantra in rhythm and in rhyme,
Yet a lexdysia mind is scrambled all the time.
In my solitude I hide my thoughts away,
No-one was interested in what I had to say.
The fact is I saw this world in different ways,
I had just a little voice that wanted to come out and play.
Then I met the poet that was called anonamouse,
That loved to write poetry as he went from house
to house.
I even sat upon a careless chair,
And met a man who wasn't their.
My life was not like a walk in the park,
Although the squirrel made me laugh.
In this farcical poetry that I write.
I give thanks that my mind is still alive.
And as I once think I said,
I'm not quite Flummoxed yet.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
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Written on 2025-09-12 at 17:36
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