The sideline view Of a poet's life. Topics free falling In ranks of predictable verse. Lacking vitality, Inspirations disperse.
My thoughts wander. Vibrating to the hum of Flourescent lights above, As the cursor blinks In hypnotic rhythm. Drawing me into The pale blank screen And beyond.
Falling once again Into daydreams Of her golden hair glowing In Autumns waning light. Hands merged in a gentle grip Warming the evening chill With a soft peck of our lips.
Longing in stillness, Attending in silence, The cursor, again, must wait The many pensive stages In a poet's futile task of Placing verses on pages.