ON FINDING A BLANK PAGE, September 1998

A Blank Page. How I have loved
To see the page, white, pristine,
Waiting only for that magic touch
Which changes it to mine,
A treasure to explore, waiting
Only to be opened up, to display
The jewels of my verse, the
Emeralds and pearls of wisdom
Dripping from my eager pen,
Flowing like that rill so
Many years ago, shining
Through the early morning mist,
Sparkling like my thoughts
Of beauty, wrought by the hand
Of time and here for me to share
And be inspired. Oh to have a brush
Dripping with paint to catch
That magic moment never to be
Repeated. But words must
Do – my fingers are not those
Of artists who can catch
The moving moment. But I can
Fill my page with joy of
Memories, intense and always with me now,
Shining in the lake’s still moment.

JEB

For more information on these poems, contact edmund@balnaves.org