"Goodbye" to April - soon
"Hello" to May!
We've come to the end of a poem a day -
that NaPo - type madness which kept us at work
with imperative dictates we didn't dare shirk.
Some followed prompts found in Blogland at large;
some allowed random ideas to take charge.
But whatever the source, the outcome was plain,
a poem's a poem, some kind of
word game.
A writer will play it with ardour and zest
till he finds that one word which surely is best
to convey his intention, pass on his thoughts
to the reader whose kind approbation is sought.
Though that's not the whole reason we pick up a pen,
or dash to a keyboard to pound it again;
when our inspiration comes from the muse
who prods us to action, we've no time to lose.
We have to obey such a summons, 'tis true -
what else could a dyed-in-the-wool poet do?
