Tuesday, November 8, 2016


                      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.