Late Night Senryu
The words are prodding,
At the soft edge of my tongue;
Urging me to write.
Paper screaming blank,
under my hand so gentle.
My pen hovering.
My mind whispering,
A thousand words per second,
Transferred on the sheet.
The book of knowledge,
Feeds me poems of beauty
Late in the evening.
And while my conscience
Is dreaming but wide awake,
I need sleep once more.
Copyright © Chloe Payseur | Year Posted 2016
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