Verbose and rambling, self-indulgent guff
describe my first fumbling poetic stuff.
Memories from here and there
exposed to view in a new blog where
I learned to read as much as I wrote,
- humbled by great online poets -
to shrink my poems,
choose ingredients, with care,
fight off frequent bouts of despair.
Mix well-chosen words and rhythm together
leaving time for the mix to mature
til a contented glow means that I can be sure
it’s cooked and ready to read -
though never finished.
This is for prompt 144 at dVerse Poets Pub