It’s time to toss this torpor off and rise
To new vitality—the day awaits:
There’re waking dreams I’ve yet to realize
That only daylight consciousness creates.
It’s only when I sit like this and sip
My morning brew and chew my pen cap that
My mind can travel off to Serendip
And hoist a magic rabbit from my hat.
It’s true a verse is drafted line by line,
And yet that labor’s guided by the Muse
For more than human effort but divine
Is called for or my torpid brain will snooze.
You may will think my Muse failed to appear,
Or I should undertake a new career.