It’s memories, reflections, dreams that spark
My impulse every day to write a verse
While sitting in the morning’s semi-dark
Alert for what my Muse brings to disburse.
At times like this, it’s nothing better than
Reflections on the process that I use;
When things go better, though, I sometimes can
Authentically invoke the bashful Muse,
Surprising me with some original,
Engaging topic to investigate
And worthy of a sonnet’s musical
Devices as a way to contemplate.
Tomorrow, I shall hope, that is the case;
Today’s won’t even make it to first base.