Unlike The Cuckoo...

After midnight into the wee hours
Composing upon sheets of paper
Or a school jotter.
Still at primary school and,as the
Images and the thoughts became
Verse, I felt creative...

Later, in life, a craft ignored but it
Stuck with me and would not depart
Unlike the cuckoo or the corncrake
As the summer ends.

But in life's winter the pen once more
Was taken up to produce verse coined
Traditional, modern, post modern or
Avant- garde...

For like other aspects of being poetry
Requires harvesting and in turn thanks
Given through the finished work for
Poetry shares aspects of the mystical.