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Weighty Waiting

Judith Gayle Smith
[email protected]
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Please dear kind someone, please read my poems -
not just to critique, but enjoy, sit and think.
I know I write often, and some are like tomes,
but I cannot stop them - my mind seeks to link

with someone who's been there, done that and so
can offer me feedback that's beyond mere praise.
My thoughts are just flying, my fingers too slow
to just tap on the keys for the rest of my days.

Outside the sun beckons, my dog wants to play.
My lazy form wants to just sit here and enter
what's sometimes just dribble - ofttimes I pray
that other activities would help me to center

on just washing dishes, e'en sweeping a floor -
chores that I willingly shirked way back then...
But I found this website, which cries to me more.
I no longer can focus 'cept with paper and pen.

I'll sit here for hours, inert and expecting
to find you before me - critiquing and reading
my heart baring entries. And find that instead
it's not only just me that must needs be fed.

This constant pulling- think a robin with worm!
And so, being patient, I slink off to dust
my books and my tables - then slowly I turn...
my computer needs dusting! And again I must

look once more through my listing and so hope to find
that you've had enough time to critique my grand works?
And much later I rise to finish dusting - my mind
pressing me upward and onward, ignoring what lurks

on the fringes - the calling - the desperate need
to return to my keyboard and search once again
to see if a kind soul my warped ego did feed.
But no one has read me and I sigh once again.

Eureka! A light dawns above this dim brain!
Why haven't you read all my wonderful poems?
If I critiqued yours, would we possibly gain
some free time to look into each other's domes?

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