It is late and I have a date with the sunrise,
Lay down now, pillow soft, closing my eyes,
Oh, we will cross worm word paths and surprise!

Poems will spill from us, as we journey,
under sun or stars or on our aging knees,
Each day we share our joy or misery, equally.

Be kind to yourself, dust off your shelf,
that you have sat, like some sombre elf,
holding your passion inside the flesh itself.

Passionate embrace with the moment of inspiration,
****** with keys or pencil or ink that run with creation,
Go Poet! this is your age to write out your frustration.

Write about love, wield that one with care,
Write about life, encourage those to not despair,
Write with less, fewer words to say more is rare.