~A WRITER'S DILEMMA
I lay me down and long to sleep,
Then words come tumbling instead of sheep.
Elusive words, that in the day
Lay dormant, now come out to play.
If you would keep until the morn,
And yet I’ll wake to find you gone.
Or, when my hands are sore intent
On daily chores and duty bent,
You words come marching by in rhyme
Through the hallways of my mind.
This task cannot be done in haste,
O foolish pen, it is a waste
For you to idly slumbering lie
And let those precious lines go by.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (~A WRITER'S DILEMMA by Adeline Foster )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
- 04 Tongues Made Of Glass, Shaun Shane
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- A Fairy Song, William Shakespeare
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep, Mary Elizabeth Frye
- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
Poem of the Day
- Solitary song, gajanan mishra
- To Sleep I Go, Michael P. McParland
- Beneath The Joy, Margaret Moran
- This funny thing called Snow, Angell Afinowi
- One Last Chance, Abby Bilan
- Love Note 9, Michael P. McParland
- Lamentation of the Weak, Abby Bilan
- Love so unkempt..., Kenneth Maswabi
- morning conversation, oskar hansen
- Rescued, Ima Ryma