I Wear a Warning Label

I wear a warning label around my neck, it flashes an amber light, do not disturb or you'll have a fight. This is worn to discourage interruption of my deep thoughts as I compose to write the poem of the hour, capturing words before they turn sour. The television is blasting away, announcing news and the weather, in-between commercials galore as my head pounds more and more. Concentration is difficult, I hear the neighbor's dog barking, every few minutes loud and clear, I want to wring his neck I fear. A loud lawn mower is mowing away, outside my kitchen window, it's my husband Bob wearing ear protectors, my muse recognizes him as one of the vectors. Time for a break from the noise, and unable to think on a creative level, I decide to take an hour-long nap, on my recliner with a purring cat on my lap.