POEM: Inspiration

She’s a lovely but moody lady.

She doesn’t come to me when I call her,

Or when it’s a good time for me to write.

She only comes to me when she pleases.

My book depends on her, literally.

There wouldn’t be a book if it weren’t for her.

So, I learned to listen to her when she wants to speak up.

I learned to make her creating mood work for me.

I treat her with coffee and cookies when she makes an appearance.

We sit together at the table when she visits,

And we start writing.

I absorb every word she says,

And I let her lead the way.

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From my book of poetry Sunset in Toronto, page 122.