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.