Trying To Write Poetry Poem by David Taylor

Yes it is obvious
they never were at my command
they stay deep in a recess of mind
and come out to play and dance
as they are so inclined.
I imagine them huddled
out of sight laughing
and twirling and swirling
to the unsung music
as I sit and wait.
And they wait too
but not impatiently like me
oh no they are quite content
and when the heart flashes
with commanding inspiration
they bound to their feet
and shout to me, listen
and don't interfere
with your small ideas
of what 'they' might think
or you believe is best
just type or write
if we are to show our nature
and from this subtle world
spring forth into the coarseness
of mortal speech.
Tenderly I try to set them down
on soft paper or bright lit screen
but clumsily and yet again
I twist their spines
and crush their toes
so that their dance
once so sublime
is more like pantomime
and I apologise
and they say they are used to it
but at least I really do try
perhaps if I was to try
just a little less?