"Poetic intricacies"
By Scaramouche, the po(t)et
To capture the essence
of a word
Inside the tiniest parameter
like a bubble
See-through on the outside
bursting within
A sense of temptation and
more to be found
Like haddon shallows escaping
unnoticed
And lines of importance forgotten
when sorely needed
Bygone sources of inspiration
might seek to return
But the true meaning once lost
won't be acquired again
Those were, and remain
only some
Of all my poetic intricacies, but
I get by amongst them
How could I ever do, if I believed it not?
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