Life gets ahold and it herds, when all told
the work of the poem is always tenfold.
The light from the sun flickers that shimmers in gold
amidst the shade in the summer, while on a stroll.
The pleasant refinement of daisies in view.
A maddening premise, a dove to include-
across the path, fluttering, wingspan askew-
a memory blossomed and wand’ring ensued.
A relief of a notion that somewhere around
is beauty awaiting, just to be found.
Daisies and doves, and trying abounds
the poem, tenfold or so, lingers in sound.
The creative process for me is never the same. It is often chaotic, and my writing can be brought about by several different elements. With all of the unhappiness in the world – I felt constrained by disappointment, resentment, and anger. I thought something simple would help me write something today, and this formula did.