Apologia

Wild about . . .
words in abstentia.
Inspirationless,
thought bubble eludes.
Poet?
Rhymes with blow it.
Force it.
Write it.
Do it.
Not.

Written for Tuesday Poetics at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. Jilly’s prompt:  “Write a poem that expresses how you respond to the Wild. The Wild within; the Wild that surrounds you; the Wild that beckons and bids you to embrace it.”

A fabulous prompt by Jilly. But for some reason, writer’s block has hit, which drives me . . . . . . absolutely wild!

Poet’s Plight

Words tumble round my head
searching for mates to copulate,
birth meaning upon the page.
Sleep eludes me as words deluge me.
May I write, please?
Spackle paper in alphabet hue.

Night remnants. Darkened window pane.
My muse flickers like candles upon the sill,
fickle handmaid of creativity.
If light begets light
perhaps dawn will quicken her step,
drawn to these sputtering flames.

Words slowly seep from pen
cursive dips and curves.
I write tentatively,
then speed the pace
racing to beat the dawn.
And then,  I rest.

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