A Little Song of Moods

Hollow words I’ll write out. But lovely ones.
I’ll give them stresses too. And rhymes.
Easy words. With beauty and with wood-nymphs.
A little song will come of it. Play along for me.

Then I’ll feel empty. I’ll give a start.
Clumsy thoughts will float up. Somehow it’ll be heavy.
Crooked images I’ll draw. It’ll be easy.
Nail-scratches and stains on the page. And it’ll be forgivable. And human.