The Birth Of A Poem

Poetry has to come Naturally, You just cannot sit down and say, I'm going to write a poem, Today, I'm going to write about the Sea, Will then, the seashells ring? And words like waves just sing? And Phrases just fall into place, Like freshly cut flowers in a vase? No, naturally, not! A Poem is a sting, That wakes you Up! Thousands of bells that ring, And you Must, Get Up, Ready for Battle, Paper and Pen in hand, Then you can conquer, The whole intellectual Land, Burning inside you, With passion and demand, Screaming to come out! Like a New Born Child, Of that there is no Doubt!