When I’ve finished a poem, I find
it best not to mess about with it
too much. Well, not at first anyway.
It’s like the poem needs to be
set to one side. To settle, or may I say
to stew for a while.
To soften the edges, to remove any
awkward words and make it flow
like silken honey from a spoon.
Sweet to the senses,
alluring to the soul
and nectar to the spirit.
And so. In this one goes.
Into my simmering stewpot
of poems, along with the rest.
Perhaps, someday, it will
re-emerge and take its place
on the world stage.