I wonder if most people who write poetry experience the following, ( you’ll note I do not call myself a poet , I would never take the liberty) but  for a year now I’ve noticed that writing is not a pleasure more of a compulsion.

It maybe because I write every day and very early in the morning  that has lead to the shine has rubbing off . There is a lot of prevarication before I sit down then it’s like starting a very old motor...there’s lots of turning over the brain until it gradually gets going.

Generally I bribe myself by just writing for an hour and I usually manage one good phrase or line. I hate the bad days though when nothing comes through (from wherever it comes from). I tend to regard those days as mental weeding, getting rid of all the rubbish ideas before the good ones pop up…hopefully.

So the writing hour is not a treat but more like exercise it’s great when it’s done and I’m  are glad of the results.