Always Comforting Sense Of Relief

I want to be born again
somewhere
between nine and ten, with
a precocious but burgeoning
sense of my own importance.

I do not want to
understand
the poetic form beyond
that which rhymes
and that which does not;

and, when I catch an idea,
I want my own PC
where
I can scope these
feelings.

Then,
when I am driven
from bed
with rhymes all jangling in
my head

I can write
down this nonsense
with a brief
but always comforting
sense of relief.
© 3 April 2007, I.D. Carswell