A Poem Is Born
As sleep escapes me my pen is lifted.
Some people tell me they think I'm gifted.
Yet I just write what's in my heart.
Experience is where I start.
Now I send these words out there.
Across the silvery moon somewhere.
Inside a dream I've surely begun
to form a plan,a tale to be spun.
Like a quickened beat of music it swells.
with the nuances of the story it tells.
Upon life's canvas the paints are thrown
while the seeds of a new idea are sown.
Now back to me for a tweaking or two.
My words are spent on a special few.
Those ones who get me so completely
are packed up in my heart quite neatly!
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