What is it about a poem

that wakes you up at night

It hovers and whispers

even though it’s not yet light

 

Exhausted bones groan

Wearily – I moan

“No pen or paper today

please…. please go away”

 

Another one takes its space

as if auditioning for a place

“Not today,” I sigh,

“surely another poet is nigh?”

 

Amid sulky whispers they fly

voices fading – by and by

Sleep’s pendulum begins to sway

As I groggily ponder,

“What was it they wanted to say“?

©Vivian Zems

Real Toads- Tuesday Platform