A Day In The Life Of A Poet

The clattering sounds of an awakening city brings his sleep to a close.
His very first thoughts upon awakening are a few lines of prose.
Resisting the temptation to return to bed
he picks up his paper and pen instead.
He thinks to himself "could this be a curse"?
"To be so addicted to writing verse(?)"
But his hands he does not resist as they begin to write,
recapitulating his dreams of the previous night.

Reading his own words, he finds that they please.
But he is amazed that they seem to come with such ease.
Verses for the future he decides to save,
so off to the bathroom to shower and shave.
After brushing his teeth and combing his hair
he's ready for some jogging in the fresh morning air.
Then resting in the grass after his morning run,
he imagines that his body is recharged by the warmth of the sun.

Across the sky goes a flock of birds
and through his mind goes a flock of words.
What do they mean?
Perhaps he is a messenger journeying thru this space and time
delivering a message of rhythm and rhyme
to a world with too little peace and too much crime.

Perhaps he is a singer whose song is the wind
a sculpter whose clay is his paper and pen
depicting words whose message
when we comprehend
helps us to find a reservoir of strength
from deep within.

Now thorougly refreshed and in a cheerful mood
he heads for a cafe and a bite of food.
And while trying to determine his choice
from among the freshly baked pies
he secretly admires
the waitress' thighs.
"Perhaps she and I can lie in passions' sweet bed
our love expressing poetry in words unsaid."
But is love not a poetry of a special kind
expressing rhythm with body and mind?

A stroll thru Grant Park in the vicinity of the lake
he eagerly decides he may as well take.
He is caught up in the beauty of the citys' skyline
a multitude of buildings of magnificent design.
Buildings that are tall majestic and erect
each one the poetry of the architect.
But his eyes refuses to let him forsake
the expansive beauty of the roving lake.
And on the horizon...
he perceives...
a breathtaking view!
where the sky of violet
meets the sea of blue.

Acting upon a habitual hunch
he decided that perhaps it was time for lunch.
And lunch with his best girl was a pleasant thought
for she always provided the love and conversation that he sought.
And in their favorite spot on the edge of the Loop
he ate a plain sandwich and a bowl of soup.
As she listened to his aspirations of fortune and fame,
she secretly desired that he would change her name.

The hot afternoon sun was to be hidden by clouds
to the pleasant relief of the downtown crowds.
He enjoyed walking in the ensuing light rain
but his search for the rainbow was quite in vain.
But slowly the clouds disbursed themselves
one by one
revealing again
a view of the sun.

Perhaps a drive to the outlying suburbs
would inspire in his mind some reflective adverbs.
So onto the expressway he hurriedly drives
edging the speedometer over the double fives.
And spotting an arbitrary speeding car
he wonders who its passengers are.
"What is their destination and from whence do they hail?"
not knowing the answer he wished them well.

He finds it in the suburban woods
quite unlike the city neighborhoods.
Tall, proud and majestic trees
whispering to each other by way of the breeze.
...."What created the magnificent trees?"
Men have wondered about that throughout the years
including poets with distinguished careers
...."but should we ask the scientists...
with the advanced degrees?"

As the trees cast their shadows in the setting sun
he knew that the magic of the night will have soon begun.
He would like to linger in the woods and sleep
but he knows he has a date that he just must keep.
She greets him with a warm and tender kiss
and the urge to embrace her he can't resist.
They will soon make poetry together - the passionate kind,
after a quite and cozy dinner with music and wine.

Now back in his apartment fulfilled and alone
he finds the urge to write verse still not gone.
So his mind wanders freely to the far reaches of the universe
transforming the beauty of creation into the beauty of verse.
And now in the midst of a line whose essence
is both profound and deep
he finds his dreams journeying
through a blissful sleep.

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