Words swirl round
A restive head,
Like leaves scatter
On autumn winds,
As reach I in vain
To save words thin
From ensuing rain,
As I awake to tears
Lo threaten blur
Words I propose,
Thought cogent prose…
Hence agonize
To give words life,
Probing to shape
Morphologically,
As in a duel of fate
Each dubious choice,
Be cause poem unfolds…
Whilst I persist
To disgorge such,
The like express
Words nobly knit,
Tho they oft trap
Rather than flow,
Or eke in anguish
Desperate whispers,
Of an aspiring poet!
Poetry on a canapé 
I am very impressed by the subject…
I’m happy to hear that you do, and that you took the time to say so. It’s a poem that is close to my heart, having lived with writing poetry for some 35 years plus, and in a somewhat more serious driven approach for the last 20 years or so. Thanks again for you encouragement. Jean-Jacques Fournier
Hard to imagine your words oft trap for when I read them they seems so fluent, alive and never to have touched a cage, a talent indeed. Paulette 🙂
Ah! My dear Paulette, the one advantage of years, is that the long ago more easily springs to mind the memorabilia of what it was like then, and to a lesser degree fortunately, what it is still like, trying to tell a tale in the stingy affords of poetry. But your kind words be nothing less than food for inspiration, and for this I am forever grateful, because it keeps me writing and alive.
Jean-Jacques Fournier
Well then this is a relationship where we both benefit. How lovely. Paulette
Thank you! Jean-Jacques Fournier