With nothing in mind,
Behind shuttered blinds,
Inspiration can't visit today,
There isn't a spark,
To banish the dark,
And allow inspiration to stay
Then out of dim places,
Appear crimson traces,
Small glowing embers do sway.
Like a bolt from the dark,
A creative spark,
Brings ideas that soar into day.
Unbidden desires,
Surge forth like fires,
Words begin their wild play,
Thoughts take on flame,
Burn bright without shame,
As new ideas seize the day.
In your usual fashion,
Riding steeds of wild passion,
Bringing order to disarray.
Like Ahab's great whale,
You grab hold of a tale,
You're dragged along with the spray,
Ideas unrestrained,
Like horses unchained,
Stampede and start to decay,
Sweet Rhythm falters,
Perspective alters,
Your tapestry begins to fray
As you madly caper,
To bring to pen to paper,
And record your fleeting foray,
Scant memory lingers,
Drips through fisted fingers,
Taunting thoughts almost say,
“You sit here alone,
A king with no throne,
Awaiting fresh wind for your tale”.
