Ode To A Pen Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

Alone
in
the
night whilst
the clock
ticks
the fine sound
strikes
hour
after
hour
midnight
deep
of
night
and
then
beyond...
ghosts and shrouds
go round
and you lie
without scepter
without power.....
you have to wait...

then dawn
comes
and
a little
before
the
first
cock
crows:
you heave your breath
you
kindle
your Soul with
expectation
count
the
minutes.

you power heads
heads
from the waking of
your
Poet-Seer
he takes you
up
almost
the
first
thing
in
the
morning
then writes
hectic...
the night
and the sub-conscious
worked
and
worked....

line after line
verse after verse
word after word
the Poet-Seer absorbed
writes
writes
writes
heeds not the time...
you
Pen
write line after line
obedient yet proud
not subservient
yet
willing
serves
the Brain and Inner Soul
that speak without uttering
but
writing
writing
writing

then...
at last the Poet Seer
drops you
he rises
the lines are done
away moves the Poet Seer
you
hear
him
humming
and
you lie on those words
verses and song
you almost appropriate them...