Some times, I need to just write, babble, trying to get the mind back to verse. The following has
no special meaning, to me personally. It is my way to clear my head. Hopefully it will work.
Thank you for your patience and understanding.

Are you the one,
I may be looking for?
Do you always make
My heart soar?
Would it be wrong,
If we had met before?
Or can I relate,
To an upcoming date,
Of what the future
Will bring, without knowing,
What I am looking for?
Is it a release to be,
Looking in every open door,
At someone, I've met before
Or is it, just a frustration,
That springs from days of yore?
How will I know,
When it's time to go,
To seek someone,
From youthful adoration,
That won't cause,
A big sensation.
Ask me not,
For I don't know
And hope that I can,
Let my feelings go.

There are some stories, quite old,
About going prospecting for gold.
I'm sure you have heard them before,
As they are now part of Western Lore.
Searching through forests and bare hillside;
Walking most always but an occasional ride.
Searching and searching in rocks that erode,
Looking for the very elusive, "Mother Lode."
Hearing these tales, while around a fire,
Trying to determine if true or a liar.
No one will tell you, where it is found.
Only one place, deep in the ground.

It was at 5, in the morning hour
When a flash of words, did occur,
As I laid in bed. Four lines did emerge,
Written in my mind; no compelling urge
To arise from my toasty warm bed
And write them down, while in my head.
Alas, they are gone, far away from me
And now lost. No longer my reverie.

When the winds blow in, from the sea,
That is the time, I want to be,
Out on the water; the bounding main.
But alas and alack, never again,
Will I return to the sea.