My Butter Fingered Mind

 

The poem I forgot

Would have been my bread and butter

A staple in anthologies

Where experts put a thousand

Of the best down to rest

And get credit for their edit

 

All the things I could have got

I might have bought a yacht

With the poem I forgot

 

I think its form was lyrical

It may have been satirical

 

But no! Its tone was serious

Noble and imperious

 

I wish I could recall

You’d have all been in my thrall

I’d have seemed like such a swot

With the poem I forgot

 

 

I don’t remember where I was

When I had the creative burst

If it all came in a flash

Or I wrote a few words first

 

But that’s the problem - I didn’t write

I mustn’t have had a pen

I possibly was in the car

So that explains it then

 

It doesn’t really matter though

The why, the where, the what

I’ve lost it now, it’s gone for good

The poem I forgot