A Non Creative Walk About. (New Ending)

I took a poem for a walk
Around the houses,
Looking for a place to settle,
To store our goods,
Our clothes and chattels,
To safely call our own.

I took a poem for a walk
Among the tall apartment blocks,
But all I found was sky high gates
Bristling with lights and cameras.

I took a poem for a walk
searching for a maisonette,
Spick and span, cool and comfy,
Safe from louse, from cat and mouse,
From the spy with plasma eyes.
A haven where my verse could grow
Safe and secret, hid from sight
Like an undercover lover;
Spring blossom snug beneath the snow.

I took a poem for a walk, but
There was no place where the poem
Could root and settle,
Branch and bloom.
No lean to filled with constant heat,
No oil lamp burning day and night,
No quiet suburban garden.
And so the poem lifted sticks,
Floated ghostlike on the thermals
High into transparent air,
Waving sadly as it went.

So now there is no poem I can walk.
My notebook, crumpled up but empty,
Sits inside my jacket pocket,
The left hand pocket stuffed with pencils.

So now there is no poem I can walk,
And I am lost, bereft and lonely,
Wandering through an empty land,
A place where verse cannot be spoken.

I took a poem for a walk
Looking for a place to settle,
A place to store our goods and chattels,
To love and call our own.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
January 30th. - July 8th. 2017.
March 23rd. - 26th. 2018.