by Rory Turnbull

How to begin? How do we make a start?
With all those expectations driving me
To take my turn and try to play my part
In writing something, somehow, easily,
I do not know; I know not what to write,
Since I’m ungifted, and in rhyme untaught.
‘Fain would I, but I dare not.’ Walter’s right:
I dare not try, for fear of falling short.
And yet, although I won’t expect your praise,
It still is fun to have a go and think.
Indulge me then, and let me say the phrase:
‘Behold, some unimportant thoughts in ink’.
For, then, a celebration you will see
Of that great gift of thought, of poetry.

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