Me A Poet No Not Me Poem by graham russell

the leaves rustle as they rush across the ground
the stream giiggles as it makes it, s way to the sea
the birds sing of the day to come
as i walk and muse trying to sort
my thoughts, to make some sense
of the news i heard today

a poet i was to be
me a poet no not me
how could it be
how did it come to be

poets are rich in words
they paint pictures
within your minds

me i sit and write but
no pictures come to mind
nothing is all i see
for words escape me.