Glad it Wasn’t a Raven (repost)

So I climbed atop my writing desk,

Sat still and quiet for a while,

Not in front or underneath,

To stop the verses running wild.


There was an air duct next to me,

Attempting quite to suck me in,

I felt myself lean toward it,

Wanting to squeeze between the vents.


Desirous craving is not helpful,

Many cloistered men have preached,

If I succeed and quell my passion,

Then what compels creative reach?


So I stay balanced with my books and pens,

Attention there under my nose,

Still I allow imagination leeway,

Sometimes I follow where it goes.


– April Resnick











Because I sat on my writing desk again today.

~ by April on September 10, 2013.

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