R S Thomas
his writing is the water ruler
where the flood breached one day past
when the tide of his heart was in full spate
see how high the river was that day
oh that i could write that way
see the autumn leaves of my words
dash like a rat across the flow
to swim up stream is so hard now
as i cling to the ruler black and white
where i might if ‘things’ are right
catch that imp and lay him low
and then you would really know
how high my tide of words might flow
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