Today...
World Poetry Day...
I've been sitting with ink at the tip of my quill,
To fill some paper with my poetic skill.
But no words came,
And I am gulped in shame.
I called upon the Grecian muses,
I prayed to saraswathi the goddess,
And for Holy Spirit I waited.
But still no words spurted.
I admit.
I am no Poet.
At midnight like a thief, poetry will come.
But I then sleep sound and snorsome.
Like a stranger uninvited she'll come at inconvenient times.
But with strangers unrecognized I play no games.
She comes when she comes,
Right then you must take her in your arms.
Lest you sit like I sit,
Like an everlong meditating hermit....

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