My Poetic Wit
Those specific quiet noondays
When I wake up in a blaze
With anticipation and amaze
It enables me to start transcending
A blasting brainwave of creating
Suddenly, I have a hankering
For dynamic innovative rhyming
My internal universe of eidetic imagery
Is continually running lyrically
My mind works, with a hunch feeling
It encourages me, when drafting
Where I sit into the quiet of night
Underneath, its cryptic shadow delight
Where my psyche is running and gunning
I keep composing and poesying
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