Perhaps You Never Got to Write that PoemA Poem by Andrew JohnFreeverse
You ready yourself to perform that poesy;
a pen is held firmly in your fingers as you concentrate, while eating pickled onions, and reach for the notebook that’s by your side. Yet once you’ve taken that book in your hand, then pointed the poised pen at the page, while chewing on that pickled onion, there’s a distracting sound you’d rather not hear. A bell at the door, a bong from the clock, while a first line of verse is rather undone? You do rather wish to grab that jar of pickles and throw it at the door. Or at the clock. (23 Aug 2023) © 2023 Andrew JohnReviews
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3 Reviews Added on August 25, 2023 Last Updated on August 25, 2023 Tags: poetry, poems, onions, pickled onions Author
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