There it is: nowhere, the idea has left 
Like a lightning bolt striking the air, and as deft 
As a mouse escaping beneath the stair- 
Where it has gone to I never shall know 
Nor am I intent on finding out anymore- 
Time is long and time is short but one thing I have found, 
Thoughts are often like waves on a shore 
Coming and going with no conscience or care 
As to which direction they are bound 
Or the paths on the sand that their traveling wore.

There it is: nowhere, the inspirations 
That had filled my head a moment before 
Are now lost in the ocean of life’s constant desire 
For wisdom and learning and dreams that failed, 
Thinkers and dreamers that don’t dream anymore 
Whose thoughts were destroyed in memory’s fire 
And whose ships full of sonnets and poems have sailed 
Away, far away, for more rhymes to acquire. 

There it is: nowhere, the words have gone, 
Like the very short charm of a played out song, 
They vanish and fade against my wishes- 
It seems that to me these thoughts don’t belong, 
That these poems and words are unruly fishes, 
In an ocean of life’s constant desire, 
Where no man can ever grow any younger, 
To catch and to claim and to always require 
Another, to satisfy life’s artful hunger.