poems by Donald James Dolby
A waterfall of words comes tumbling from my brain,
Cascading thought jewels, ever more bizarre;
Where are they from?
Where do they go?
Never mind, don't ask:
Grab a pencil, capture them, else they're never seen again.

Why will my pencil not produce
On paper here before me
The philosophical wanderings that I find
Are the early morning products of my mind.

Notes :-
High Wycombe, date unknown