I sat at the table
With notebook and pen
I’m thinking of writing a poem again
My mind is in motion
But what shall I write
Of a ship on the ocean
Or gulls in full flight
The Opera or Ballet
On the opening night
Shall I look out at the moon in the sky
Even watch as a giant Jumbo files by
Will I wait till tomorrow
For the Postman to ring
To see what assortment of letters he’ll bring
Some of them welcome
The others I’ll hate
My eyes follow the Mail man down to the gate
It’s raining again and I’m getting depressed
So I think it’s time to give writing a rest
I’ve closed the book, put my pen on the table
That poem I’ll write just as soon as I’m able.