Some Verse Before Sleeping (Or Trying To)

Oh, thou unrepentant muse
That only speaks when time
Runs short
How long must you abuse
This poor heart of mine?
When my head is muzzy
And my heart weary,
My perceptions fuzzy,
And my mind leary,
THIS is when you choose
To release your treasures
To light the fuse
Of creativity,
When it is FAR TOO LATE
At night for me
To be awake and trying
To stare at a screen
And punch correct keys.

Now the story line will tumble
And perhaps end up in a jumble
 Because I just can't take enough time
To get it all down and let it unwind
Still, it will haunt my dreams
And morph and edit itself
It seems
And I must hope and pray
That the gist of the thing will stay
And still be there tomorrow
When I finally can
Sit me down and try to write again.
But, knowing you as I do,
I doubt it will go so smoothly
For when time is not an issue

I can say quite truthfully,
Your willingness to cooperate IS.


Now I lay me down to sleep
 I pray the Lord my muse to keep
That it survive another night
To come again and help me get the story right.

If it should flee before I wake,
I pray the Lord that muse to shake
And get it to start up singing
That I may get my words a flinging.

That from my head and onto the page
A story may  come to age
That others may read and enjoy
The gift you allow me to employ.

So for awhile cares may be eased
And hearts may well feel pleased
May what I write see needs addressed
That all who read may in some way be blessed.



 And so, in the midst of something
I must stop, and honor physical needs
Even though a story is in the offing
Something I want myself to read,
I must put it aside
Pray that it is still there later
When I come to take it up
And hope it goes where I need it to.


Time, thou ever sneaking thief
You
Steal my youth,
Steal my momentum,
Steal my very life

How am I to get caught up
With your roaring juggernaut
How get done what must be done
Before another setting of the sun?


And so, to bed
While visions of plot bunnies
Run through my head