Lady With Pen
In the midnight hour she
cried no more.
Her mind as she tried to
sleep cried out encore.
She wrestled with the demons
and spirits of the night.
Tossed back and forth
beneath the sheets so right.
Anguish within her soul
longing for a rest.
Words so soothing to
the soul cried for the best.
Pulling back the bed covers
away from her torso.
Candlelight on her table still aglow.
She moved towards the table
her mind set on a battle.
Within her grasp lie her pen
now all was quiet in the den.
Thoughts from her mind
were silent.
Words she began to write
they were to the soul ointment.
Images she painted and stroked
with her pen.
Striking her page as a
trained marksmen.
Verses they began
to intertwine.
So soothing one would
sip like fine wine.
She finished her poem
a poem she named
the phantom.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
