writing seems such a solitaire game
between you and a deck of words
you deal them out
onto your paper or screen
and look for the hooks
to connect them in sequence
expressing the feelings
you find in your mind
but isn’t a solitaire game
meant for pitiful lonely
the chronically bored
a device to splice
sleep onto staying awake
escape from rude news
all the bray of the day
and parts of life best ignored
yet unlike a solitaire game
that dies on new turn of a card
writing lives for as long
as alacrity strains
to offer those clever-set
phrases and lines
to other eyes lonely and bored
in their solitaire game of reading
Oh! You hit it again, Paul.
LikeLike
Thanks, Susan, but it’s more like it hit me.
LikeLike
Excellent once again. HF
LikeLike
And once again I thank you, Harper.
LikeLike
Wow!!!! You really are a witty “imaginator”.
Good one. True for the most too.
LikeLike
Thanks. I like “imaginator.”
LikeLike
You captured the feeling exactly, of how it is writing. I enjoyed this one.
LikeLike
I’m glad you liked this piece.
LikeLike
Hi and thanks for stumbling upon my blog. I enjoyed your poem Solitaire. Will come back and read the rest
LikeLike
Reblogged this on Poesy plus Polemics.
LikeLike
I like “imaginator” too. Writing for the blog doesn’t seem like solitaire to me–I liken the reciprocal group of writer/readers to a table of card players: there’s always a good game up!
LikeLike
it is a nice community feeling, I must say
LikeLike
Beautiful.
LikeLike
thanks kindly
LikeLike
Sometimes we do write when we are alone, at least in our brain. And I think we are reaching out for someone else to say, “I get it”.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I like that thought
LikeLike