Unexpected words
arrived. They were
refugees
from somewhere else.
Come in, I said, Enjoy
my hospitality.
So they crowded in
becoming instant friends.
It took
no time before they
had arranged themselves
inside my writing book.
I call my new friends pomes,
myself, a pote.
Before you know it
they might transform
themselves into poems.
Then I will be a poet.
© Hazel Hall
28 May 2011
