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I wondered
If there was a great poem within me
I first checked my ears
Hoping perhaps
To wax lyrical
No poetic words to sniff at
Resided up my nose either
I thought perhaps
To venture to my belly button
(my mothers' once gave me a womb with a view)
But nothing
Other than a little fluff
Suitable for miniature kittens?
I veered away from the nether regions
Wherein lay trickles of ideas
I decided to try my mouth
But ended up eating my own words
And became averse, to verse
With inner butterflies
Of flapping anticipation
As words
Freely floated along
On a meandering wind

by Jemia