Page Title

I’m a collector words, a gatherer of rhymes;

I’m a hoarder of phrases.  Is that such a crime?

   They’re here, in a box - yes, under my bed.

    Or would they be better in a cupboard instead?

 

Adjectives are noisy but so are the verbs.

Oh where else can I store such a wide range of words?

    I must creep very carefully as I pass by my bed,

    For, without any warning, they’ll pop in my head.

 

I'll creep through the bedroom like a ghost in the night.

I don't want to wake them or cause them some fright!            Oh dear!!!  What I dreaded - a writer’s worst fear! -                That means no sleep tonight that’s perfectly clear!!

​

​

Copyright on all my poems

​

​

​

​

​

​