Lost Words

I had it then lost it;
the words slipped away,
silent and sulking.

Inspiration shouldn’t be so fickle.
As soon as I allow my gaze to wander
it vanishes,
no longer captured within the orb.

Words are slippery,
newly formed, newly born.
Once set upon the page or
given utterance, they solidify,
take shape.

I did not abandon them –
only sought to delay their inking.
Their song I had not a voice to raise.
But time is of the essence, and we lose
the words we cannot sing.

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