Insatiable Trixie
Trixie is in a mood for faerie poems today.
I keep saying “no more” but here they come.
She ignores my please, I am nobody believe me.
There is no reprieve for she is the Trixie.
On days when I am out of juice,
She revives me at the ready.
I have no ability to refuse.
My pen and she are going steady.
Trixie gets fixated as easily as I do.
Whatever she is into is easy to see.
She is my muse, my inspiration, my glue.
She shakes me awake sometimes as early as three.
Let’s go! She says, yelling lines to me.
I know she’s been playing in my sleep again.
I cannot say no. She is wily and wonderful though wee.
She is closer to me actually than most of my kin.
Trixie, can we have one day of rest?
I beg her, but she scoffs and spits.
She is obsessed, and the best.
She simply never lets me quit.
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