Thursday, June 23, 2016


                    First thing every morning of each day
                    I make a point to hold the world at bay
                    With all its business and urgencies
                    So I may contemplate and write in peace:

                    This rare serenity sustains a mood
                    That generates a lyric attitude,
                    And soon a line emerges in my mind
                    That shows which way my poem is inclined,

                    Which seems as much unfolded as composed
                    As if revealed in daydream while I dozed;
                    So, fancifully, I’ll say some spirit guide
                    In whom I transcendentally confide
                    Provides the hints and clues I come to use,
                    All done with thankful reverence to my Muse.