Writing Sensation

Wrote I simple for a lark

No special spark or single passion...

Would not soon my words embark,

starving by noon without their ration?

Yet these embers burning deep

are a heap of coals within my chest

calling me up from my sleep

'till I surrender; there is no rest

Fever hot shall not dissuade

from my life's lot and only true work

and one might guess at my trade

Pen in hand from the moment of birth

Many a love; come and gone

None like the torment of this romance

A tale quiet for so long

might seem as if it has little chance

Whisper again in my ear

My darling, My muse, come hence to me!

Shake off the past and this fear

Rekindle the flame by which I see

Spin these teardrops on your wheel

with strands of joy and inspiration

show the world just how I feel;

The bliss of this writing sensation!