Having just seen a post about word count
Caused me to pause to reflect my writing
For it seems if I aspire to be a writer
I’d be reviewing, editing, inspiring.
To become an accepted publisher writer
Is a goal that seems enticing at times
But I realize the dedication and hours
Not just a thinker who on occasion rhymes.
My words come from the feelings I have
I question it being considered an art
For most of my verse falls to the page
As a result of the beat of my heart.
I see the inspiration of many writers
How they cause words and thought to flow
I’m humbled to read the comments and praise
A lowly word bender is all that I know.