A new direction for me

I have decided to work again on writing poetry. Not because I am good at it, or have some original thoughts. I need an outlet for my emotions, for things that I feel and want to say but do not have the guts to have it all laid out for the people who know me to see. Forgive me for the amateur attempts, just realize it is me trying to put the things I have trouble saying  in to words.

The not so mighty pen

I have the heart and soul of a poet...

But not the pen.

I see things of beauty, my eyes filled with tears...

But my treacherous pen, cannot transfer my feelings in to words.

I look upon a blue bird with ruffled feathers

I stare with wonder as I drink in his cheery chirp.

His chubby body poised for flight

If I should forget myself, and sigh too loud.

My eyes and ears see and feel the trees

Bending and swaying with the fluttering winds.

I hear the leaves rustling a soothing tune

I could fall asleep, and forget my petty cares in its melody.

I gaze at my Black Cat, lying in a sunny patch

I marvel at the myriad of colors that make up his toasty coat.

I want to bury my face in his tummy

And feel his purr and love envelop me.

I hear the smooth breathing of my sons

As I am laying in bed with them, listening...

I wonder how I ever lived without the sweet sounds

Of two people who fill my heart with an abundance of love.

Why does my pen not let me convey this?

Why do I have to speak in such common tones.

I wish that I could write so well and so strong

So that when I am old, I can relive it all again in my mind.