Friday, June 1, 2012

On Writing...

Writing is  
Bittersweet frustration
A journey
Without a destination

To write is like climbing
A long, slow grade
But its summit is obscured in a mist
Keeps us pressing on
To a view that may not even exist

It is child’s freckles
And dimpled grin
A punch in the gut
Or under the chin

It’s a stroll
On periwinkle eve of June
Its hand to the pen
In a world out of tune

It is the hideout
Of phantom Muse
The lord to which
Thought pays its dues

© Janet

1 comment:

  1. I couldn't have written it any better. You've got a clear understanding of the art of writing. Very well done.


Thank you for your visit to this porch. I'd love to hear if or how this post/poem touched you!