The authors mistress

Dam inspiration, oh how you’ll dwell. 

Dwell on the last line and dwell on the next,Dwell on the author the Critic the Poet the text, Dwell for an hour, dwell for a day, Dwell as the spark of inspiration slowly melts away.                                 

Curse dine own hand for the faith she hast Wrath !, Curse it and curse it and curse it-why not ?, Stare at the ceiling the walls the floor, Stare at the paper the pencil the window the door.

Draw inspiration like blood from a stone, Sit in a dark room all on your own, Praying and pleading cursing and crying Belting and Breathing   and hopelessly trying.

Or—seek Inspiration, shes there to be found let creatively carry you far from the ground, yet never be ideal not from such a hight, thought  she may love you she lives for the fight.

She burns like a fire yet like a river she flows she meanders and sparks and god only knows,

Oh dam Inspiration, dam how it’s burns and dam how it grows, yet there on the page is the Beauty of a rose.