Ink To Paper An Un Quatrainal 19nov17

On an empty page, my quill Does not sit to quench Its thirst to lessen this quandary To let, nay make, quintessential Inroads, biding thy quiver Of lexiconical bolts; queuing And firing forthwith rousingly formed quips Onto this pulpy papery quilt Begat by thy mind & soul; quoth I, the Poeter, set to quicken One’s pace upon the barren quagmires Of this regimented delineation of the exalted quatrain Without the rigmarole to produce Each line with, a notion of being abstruse Nor, being meant to infer being obtuse Or, to take a step back and be a communicatory recluse A piece de resistance for the ruminating Ilk, step forward with grandeur; minds & souls; scintillating.