Stream of Poetry

What happens when I let stream of consciousness into my poetry...

Ah to write and to sing
A beautiful thing
As the words I sow
And the poems, they grow
So I create,
And obfuscate
Meaning and word
Some rather absurd
But in the end telling
Or playfully dispelling
Morals or mores,
With delightful cures
Not tonics, nor limes
But simply these rhymes
One after the other
Until we discover
What we have sought
In all of this thought