The hatchlings in parental nest,
How much the raw wings may flutter,
It'd still take time before they fly.
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Oh what to write, my mind in wrangle, My first letter is it of love, Not sure what to write, what leave lone. This confusion comes everytime we sit to write, not only for a beginner, but for even a seasoned writer! Once the initial lag is over, words and thoughts would flow in an unbroken chain, not always, but often. Such moments a poet should arrest and make use of! The dilemma faced by a poet is well expressed here!
Thank you, every reader is at liberty to interpret the poem in own way. But I had more an apprehensive lover in mind than a poet. But it sure fits in well the way you have seen.
A beautiful poem, anything done first time is never forgotten.
Oh what to write, my mind in wrangle, My first letter is it of love, Not sure what to write, what leave lone. This confusion comes everytime we sit to write, not only for a beginner, but for even a seasoned writer! Once the initial lag is over, words and thoughts would flow in an unbroken chain, not always, but often. Such moments a poet should arrest and make use of! The dilemma faced by a poet is well expressed here!
This happens to me as well. There is no knowing if PH has taken it what we wrote. Has it slowed down, or the Internet, or the service provider?