A Never-Ending Process

As I re-read some of my poems, it is apparent to me that most of them are never finished. Always, new ideas creep in, something doesn’t sound or feel right, a word here and there is misplaced or inappropriate for the occasion; rhythms are off, rhymes are trite. The process of re-thinking, re-working and re-editing never ends. I strive to make the perfect poem, but it eludes me. I am the product of my own limited imagination and ability. I continue to struggle with the creative process because it satisfies a deep inner need, but I fear that my poems are not destined for greatness. It is my hope that some gentle beings will enjoy a few of these poems and feel what I do about my experiences.