A SENTENCE-SONNET

                    The best way I have found to contemplate                    
                    What’s in and on my mind is meditate,                    
                    Serenely musing in my half-cocked chair                     
                    While chewing on my pen-cap as I stare                    
                    Inwardly behind my lowered lids                    
                    Into a realm that busyness forbids                   
                    And where imagination’s free to roam                     
                    Until it lights upon what makes a poem                    
                    Appear: a subject with propensity                     
                    To stir my thoughts into intensity,                     
                    The racing of my till-then torpid mind                   
                     Now eager to trace how a thought’s inclined                    
                     And see where all this gush of words may tend
                     And at what point this oddball verse will end.

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