NeuroDivine

The line is shaped, the thought is clear,
its cadence softly flows:
yet still I pause and listen hard,
for one lost word to choose. 

I search through rhyme and kindred sound,
through pathways half-concealed;
some promising, some bright and strange,
yet none quite fit the field. 

A thesaurus opens many doors,
and scatters jewels wide;
but not each gem was meant to rest
within the verse I guide. 

The little hamster turns his wheel, 
and sends new sounds in flight;
some tumble neatly into place,
and make the stanza right.

Then comes a word I sought not first,
a traveller from afar;
it sheds a fresh and gentler light
where old thoughts hidden are. 

And sometimes every offered rhyme
confirms what I must see;
the poem asks another road, 
alternate melody.

So tools may place before the mind
a hundred threads to weave;
the poet still must choose the one
the heart will best believe. 

For language keeps her secrets well, 
yet kindly leaves a clue;
and patient labour at the page
may find the word that's true. 

A poem to highlight the Rhyme Hamster website, created by Jeremy Desmon, a musical theatre writer and lyricist who got in touch with me about it recently. The poem is dedicated to the Rhyme Hamster.

NDP-0112