Here I sit before a page
Awaiting words that never come,
Words of waiting,
Words of watching,
Words that tarry out of reach.
I sit and wait and watch – not writing –
Seeking words just out of reach.
I seek words to speak of seeking,
Words to talk of watching, waiting,
Words that tarry,
Words that linger,
Words that lie just out of reach.
O’er this page I run my finger
Wanting words just out of reach.
The words, they tarry oh so slowly.
While I wait, they take their time.
Words that amble,
Words that wander,
Words that stroll just out of reach,
They meander, over yonder.
They make sweet eyes just out of reach.
I listen for those words of waiting,
Words that tease from over there,
Words that murmur,
Words that mumble,
Words that whisper out of reach.
I strain to hear beyond my grumble,
But still they stay just out of reach.
I watch and wait. I want to write,
I long to write those eth’real words,
Words that flutter,
Words that prance,
Words that flit just out of reach.
My eye beholds the graceful dance
Of precious words just out of reach.
Waiting for those words of waiting,
Searching for those searching words,
Words that scour,
Words that seek,
Words to extend beyond my reach,
Words that give my soul a peek
Of that which lies just out of reach.