Dreamcatcher

The rush of thoughts I have each day

Spills out in such a random way.

I often feel I'm in a trance

Watching ideas swirl and dance.

My thoughts and feelings mesmerise,

They bob and weave before my eyes.

I know if I don't write them down,

They'll disappear and go to ground.

I find I have to be prepared

Now my memory's so impaired.

That's why I scribble lots in books

Making notes that act like hooks.

I list the things that I must do

To get me through each day anew.

And then, of course, there are my rhymes -

Oddball ideas and half baked lines.

These must be caught with pen and ink

Or they'll be gone, quick as a wink.

But how am I to read my scrawl

Now that my writing's very small?

Strange shapes that look like hieroglyphs

Gather in great heaps and drifts.

They stretch themselves across the page

Deciphering them takes an age.

This is how I write my verse

My methods can be quite perverse.

Gradually I'm getting worse.

Time for my medication nurse!