08 Apr

By Rick McVicar

 Poetry ricochets throughout my brain,

 Bouncing along all the crevices, 

The nooks and the crannies 

Where my dreadful fears play

Havoc upon my inner peace, 

Signaling a release

From doom and despair. 

I know not where I picked them up 

To fill my suitcase along with dirty underwear. 

Words that rhyme are kind to me, 

Giving me a sense of humor 

Following a pituitary tumor 

That cleared when I switched meds

To save me from harmful side effects. 

Poetry does all kinds of things for me

It gives me hope that can’t be squashed.

In poetry I am washed 

As clean as a newborn babe,

 I’ll dance in the falling rain.

 I’ll dance in the falling rain.


  Please feel free to comment or share. If you would like to submit creative work for publication, then contact Rick McVicar through the Contact page.

* The email will not be published on the website.