Thursday, July 22, 2010


It’s only in serenity I find
The source from which my inspiration flows,
And when I’ve reached composure of this kind,
Clearing my flurried mind, then I compose.

To be a creature who in turn creates
Means tuning in to signals, signs and codes,
The cosmic patterning that designates
Designs for sonnets, villanelles and odes.

Pervading all the universe I sense
An ordering force, mysterious and vast,
Replete with comforting intelligence
Available to an enthusiast.

To be enthused is to be entered by
Divinity, the wind on which I fly.