And as I ponder
on exactly what my next poem will look like?
I reflect on the very moment
my muse takes hold of my precious pen
swirling, weaving
and sometimes even flying over
to the next page
lines and lines of imagery
be it, white fluffy clouds
reaching down
tickling the top branches of the great cypress
or of a heart broken in two
laid in the gutter in full view?
or even love holding on tight
to a comet that shoots into eternity
perhaps even an Angel
having tea eating a slice of victoria sponge
on her finest crystal plate?
or even my raven greeting the scarecrow
that lives on the small patch of yellow grass
outside my kitchen window?
I ponder in my own mind
waiting in anticipation
in hope she will visit me soon
for that one magnificent moment
when my imagery comes alive
she’s never let\'s me down
and I cannot help but think
how lucky I am.