A Lesser Word
-John Pugh
A set of verse lies captive in my mind
Kept locked so deep that I can't hear its screams.
A masterpiece that I may never find-
From time to time it cries out in my dreams.
But only fragments make their faces known,
And frantically I try to make them fit.
When I wake up, my chances, though, are blown.
What can I do but make the best of it?
It's like a game of scrabble in my mind,
In which I get the greatest word-almost.
All seven letters, but I just can't find,
A place to lay the tiles of which I boast.
Le Mot Juste will escape 'till I'm interred.
My epitaph must use a lesser word.