I sit here

In this candle

Lit room

Surrounded by

Books filled with

The thoughts of

So many great

Writers imaginers


Who have inspired

Me momentously

So warm and


Listening to

the soft tunes

Of Claire de Lune


A leather book

Sits upon my lap

With pages so blank

They are screaming

For someone

To dream upon them

They whisper in

My ear to dream

To feel and to think

To love and to cry

To fill them with

My emotions

and wonders

My confusions

and confidences

Put my whole self

Into words upon their pages

To kiss them with a pen

Spill my words to create

Poetry of my mind

Of my spirit

And of my soul

The deepest part of me

All to be written upon

Those pages of that

Little leather blank book

While listening to

The soft tunes

Of Claire de Lune