A Sage's Sojourn
A muse, a mist, a lover's kiss,
assists another sage.
He taps his crown, and jots it down,
and scripts another page.
His quill is dipped, and well equipped,
accomplished for his age.
So deft of hand, mature command,
perhaps to earn a wage.
An anxious calm, a tense aplomb,
reactions hard to gauge.
Reviews astound, perhaps he's found,
an exit from this cage.
Twas sought afar, from schools and bars,
he's the topic, he's the rage.
A wisp, a glow, now scripts the show,
of stars from screen and stage.
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