Imagination

Imagination

Troublesome night that crashes over me,

Bringing wisps of visitors some I can see.

Throughout the house and down the hall,

Causing my fear to escalate, and my spirits to fall.

“Hello,” I say to them as they stand at my door,

But, alas, there’s no reply making me anxious and sore.

“Have you nothing more that you could do,

Then stand here speechless without even a boo.

I think perhaps it’s all in my head,

This manifestation of things that I dread.

From fanciful figures frolicking around,

To dragons and wolves and sometimes a clown.

A writer’s mind is never at rest,

From daylight to evening it seems like a test.

So if it is a test then let’s get it done,

But even once finished they’ll continue to come.

Blank paper or parchment or computer screens stand,

Awaiting the next word or sentence at my command.

Some say “This too shall pass,” and rightfully it should,

But I can’t say I’ll stop writing things some bad some good.

Once the conversation has been silenced by dawn,

I have many sensations both anxious and calm.

The end of the visitation by things in my head,

That will visit again when daylight’s a prisoner it’s said.

I can only anticipate their next arrival at dusk,

They will come to see me, their appearance a must.

And with each enlightenment as it is called,

I listen intently watching completely enthralled.