The Core of My Poetry
The nucleus of my imaginary thought
Did a galloping rendition
Of a spirited horse trot.
The hub of activity dancing in my mind
Whirled and twirled pure silliness
In every cell of mine.
The core of my poetry
Taken captive by my muses
Yes there are three
They will crank them out when ready
Not on my cue, nor my terms
Catching me off guard more often than not.
I am merely a subject. They are my queens.
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