Gershon Wolf | + Follow Poet |
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The Muse

A cold winter's day,
  Then long, drawn-out night:
Hot coffee is brewing,
  Night creatures are stirring.

Staring at paper,
  Pen clutched in hand;
A chill in the air,
  The Muse is at hand.  

All around me lies chaos,
  Texts, tweets, and twitters;
Hunkered down grimly
  Midst couplets and critters.

Now starting, now stopping,
  Words like corn popping;
Revising, inserting, rewording,
  Deleting, restoring---
The Muse gently snoring.

The hour's grown late,
  In Muse-less night;
As I lay on my pillow,
  So many poems to write.

Copyright © Gershon Wolf | Year Posted 2018

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Line Gauthier Date: 8/14/2018 11:37:00 PM Delightful, Gershon. Login to Reply Gershon Wolf Date: 8/15/2018 4:00:00 PM Thanks, Line! I rather like it myself, but I see that only you and Susan Ashley seem to appreciate this one... Oh, well ... That's the beauty of Poetry Soup: It's where the rubber meets the road, as the saying goes. ~ gw

Susan Ashley Date: 2/13/2018 8:59:00 PM Oh yes Gershon! I can totally relate. I'm glad I'm not the only one.. Sometimes our muses like to take the night off and go to bed early :)) A great write and a pleasure to read! Warmest wishes. ~Susan Login to Reply Susan Ashley Date: 2/14/2018 4:26:00 AM Thank you for your kind words my friend. I'm looking forward to your wondrous poem as we speak.. :)) warmest wishes to you always.. Gershon Wolf Date: 2/13/2018 9:58:00 PM Ah! I was hoping to get a rise from a fellow poet with this one...And I got a bonus, as the kind words have come from you, a true practitioner of the craft whom I look up to and someday hope to approximate. Thank you so much, and G-d bless! ~Gershon (P.S., Try "To Carve a Temple," coming soon...)