Collected Poems of John Holmes
Holmes, John A., Jr.
I write and throw my writings carelessly
About the room. They lie upon the floor
In scattered piles, on the disordered desk
Will scatter them about. Half-finished poems
I toss away e'er yet the thoughts set down.
Small bits of verse that glow like some small spot
Of color in an artist's rough-drawn sketch,
All hastily set down and cast aside,
Are sometimes gathered up and out away,
And then sometimes I find some perfect poems
That make worthwhile the labor of the day,
And read them in a happy glow to think
That my pen set them down in gleaming ink.