My Edited Poem is too Shy to Come Out!

I've edited my poem about my walker, which I posted on this blog previously. Now, I don't feel up to sharing it with the world.
I write to share myself with the world, in the hope that others will find new things that may help them. This poem though, hmm, it's hiding away on my computer. Should I reach in and drag it out, or should I give it a little more time, so I can tweak it some more?
These are common thoughts for me, and I suspect other poets too. How do you know when your poem is properly cooked through? When will your poem be strong enough and right enough to make the connections you're searching for?
The only way to find out may be to put the poem out there... Not yet though, no, not yet.

The world is full of gloom and doom

Don't do this, don't do that! So many rules, it's no wonder we sit around hating life and hating ourselves. 

I want to add a happier note to the overall tone of the world. So I'm posting this poem, which shows how to get the best out of chocolate! Yum.

Guilt free

Another’s plan is to eat less chocolate,

I want to eat better chocolate and more of it.

Dark chocolate, luscious, caressing my tongue

coating my teeth so I lick each tooth

again and again, tasting the chocolate, at one

with the chocolate. The chocolate creeps in,

swallowed, and I wallow in the sublime pleasure

of the flavour. I don’t crave it, I savour it.

Giving in feels like winning, tasting

not wasting. Having enough and wanting no more.

Denying myself would be so wrong,

letting myself to have it - no guilt at all!

A new poem, waiting for your input!

I mention this poem previously on this blog, but didn't do anything about it at the time. I believe that creativity must be nurtured, but must also be left alone at times.

I've written other poems in the time between back then and now, mostly on quite different subjects. Today though, I remembered that other poem and felt the need to finish it off and turn it from a few scrappy words into a properly formed poem.

It may not be completely finished, and I certainly welcome any feedback others may have to help this poem. At the moment I'm happy with the poem, but there's no telling how I'll feel about it tomorrow. I really feel I need feedback on it, and I hoping you will help me with it.

Thanks,

Carolyn

Ode to My Walker

It arrived one day, unheralded

left by the door as one might leave a note -

no note this, but a message still, unguarded

and protected by an invisible moat.

A sign of disability and loss,

walker used by the aged and infirm -

if I took it up, what would be the cost?

I hid it inside, the gift at first was spurned.

It stayed inside, unused, as I wandered through the house

one room to the next, general cleaning up

releasing hounds and letting them back in,

throwing out each unwanted mouse

then resting with computer and coffee cup -

my peaceful times a need and not a sin.

I was hiding it seems from what was there in front of me,

passed it many times, eyes averted and didn’t see

the thing that promised much to aid my fragile walking -

the walker had the news, but I didn’t hear it talking

But the walker now is in my car,

ready if I need it.

I’ve a hunger to follow my new life’s star,

the walker will help me feed it.