Whatever the tide brings
Hide my memory from weak metaphors
Let the melody of my lines ache and soothe
Those it will.
As the floodgates of clauses
Open in gushing turbulence
Teach me to trick the witless
And grab the witty.
Whatever the hunger
In the kingdom of the belly
Strengthen my doggedness
To keep righting wrongs.
Bless me with royal ticks
Who write less and judge best
Let their tongues make fertile
The soil of my musing muse.
Whatever the storm brings
Make me the windmill;
Whatever the hurdles be
Propel me with stubborn faith.
