Gracious Slavery
Contests inspire our minds, mostly I feel.
They quiz my muse along with me so much,
I sit at computer screen; she gapes at me.
My hands start the line; she cultures it.
Writing from imagination, combined,
Along with feelings, old - new moments,
I feel the spirit, I type along the way.
Forward on, while backspacing at times.
Inspiration from themes given - taken,
Raptures my mind-set; until produced,
Taunting me each new day, she calls,
Appealing to this slavery, for both,
Physical actions are mine formatted.
Rhyme, flow, imagery, and style, hers,
Over a decade, eleven years conveyed.
She into mortal world, never known,
Blesses me, her grace each write.
We share poetic deeds, in gracious slavery.
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