I'm going to buy a butterfly net.

The reason why? I haven't told you yet.

Late at night, whilst on my bed

ideas and rhymes run through my head.

And although I hate saying it, it has to be said

These poems are 'Perfect' and have to be read!

But, and this is the rub, I'm too weary and worn

to get out of bed and write them down.

So these 'Perfect' poems are lost in time

You'll never get to read that 'Perfect' rhyme. Sob! Sob!

They up and fly in all directions, out of the window, down the road,

into the ether they rise and go....where they end up, I never shall know!

That's why I need a butterfly net,

To chase those ideas and pin them down.

To turn my frown, upside down.

To give me something to write about,

It will be 'Perfect' I have no doubt.

I'll catch those ideas and take them 'Ho-em' (home)

And then I will write that elusive poem!

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Yes, Perfect, unlike this very silly poem!

But I couldn't resist it! This is what happens. I have even written short stories, but I'm too tired to write them down and by the morning they are lost to me and I only have a very vague idea of what they were about! It must be old age! HELP!