Sun streams through my window
blank pages waiting there
inspiration with this warming light
words gather here to share
and as invigorated poet I
seize pen and write away
plucking words to hone my craft
in my own special way
Rhyme my raison d'être
tells its story here once more
in this daily visitation
of what the poet's in me for
In this still hour of darkness
before morning's begun
when the night time remains
with mere vestige of sun
you'd be forgiven for thinking
it just wouldn't come
and that darkness forever
would be the deal done
But if you did you would always
miss out on the fun
for this time of day
is a long way from glum
No other reason
than Friday the third
for writing this verse
which might seem absurd
but then inspiration
will seldom conform
and will on occasion
stray from the norm
And this is the latter
with lines droll and witty
for Friday the third
and this little ditty
For inspiration of a morning
looking out into the world
seen from my study window
before a new day is unfurled
there's mystery here as always
for I will never know
what will transpire from that point on
and what the day will show
but that won't stop me looking
at the start of each new day
for inspiration to the poet
and the words he has to say
Picture courtesy: Internet. If you own this picture and have a reservation against me posting it, I could take this down or if you approve, could give you the due credit by adding your name or link to it.
If you see this picture, you could choose to see your fear or choose to see your courage or may be whatever you connect to when you see it.
I am choosing courage today. I am willing to silence/ignore the noise of fear today, of anyone or of anything.
I am choosing to listen to the faint voice of courage to do what I must do and amplify it within and so much that it reaches you too.
I am taking that jump to reach where I must reach. And you, go for it, what ever that may be!
In my room of a morning
when all around's still
and the world's waking up
and the birdsong is shrill
I can find inspiration
in the solitude here
to write words of wisdom
erudite and clear
and craft them to lines
to retain for a while
and maybe to publish
with the curl of a smile
I want to take the celebration of Thanksgiving Day here in America to thank those all across the whole wide world for taking your time to read my words,
Five in the morning
September, still dark
and as usual midweek
I’m up with the lark
The world is still silent
the night not yet done
though a tinge in the East
shows the morning has come
I’m not sure where it came from
but the book that I have now
The one I write ideas in
gives lots of joy somehow
It’s a bit about the binding
and the tactile feel it brings
with the strip of leather used to tie
pages and other things
not sure how I got here
influenced by others
of course
the vanity of having a Ph.D. degree
to understand the nature of beings
to find the cure
meetings and people
competitions and deadlines
hiding my feelings and not showing
weakness
perfection in each moment
Stop, breath and listen
looking for freedom
I isolate myself
solitude and silence
writing outside the lines
messing up
letting my feelings explode
between colours and paper clips
to find a balance
to breathe my true-self
next day I’ll be ready
a smile on my face
a word of encouragement
a surprise of a new result
observing the miracle
inside a cell
keeping my words and feelings
for later on
when they will lay down
on a piece of paper
“The Most Regretful People On Earth Are Those Who Felt The Call To Creative Work, Who Felt Their Own Creative Power Restive And Uprising, And Gave To It Neither Power Nor Time.” – Mary Oliver
Poet's Corner 