From time to time when I’m perplexed
Or by a tricky problem vexed;
A cipher that just will not yield
But keeps its mystery concealed,
I find I have a last resort
Before cerebral fuel runs short:
I open up the bathroom door
And step onto the tiled floor.
The whirring fan, the gurgling drain,
The white noise washing on my brain.
The shower is my bosom friend –
It leads me to the enigma’s end.
No matter how fiendish the puzzle,
The pump’s deliberative buzz’ll
Help me find the right solution
By the end of my ablution.
Showers do not only soak us;
They bring things into mental focus.
Doubt not their catalytic power –
I wrote this poem in the shower.
YOU HAVE JUST RISEN ANOTHER NOTCH IN MY ESTEEM. Well done, good sir – I tip my hat to you, and wish you continued inspiration to the joy of us all!
(I see how it’s turtles all the way down, btw)
🙂
Again – bravo!!
Yippee! You’re a poet and we know it,
hope you don’t blow it…
(apologies to Robert Allen Zimmerman)