Poetic Delirium Poem by Panagiota Romios

In this poetic holy state I do live,
Where, of my entire self, I most desire to give.

Raindrops of new feelings and divine, colorful thoughts.
Of these, like a storm, in a constant, pummeling onslaught.

No, no...peaceful nights, doth this poetess ever have.
Quill and parchment, are my only salve!

One poem a day, my Muse cannot bear.
"Thou lazy, sloth of a poet, I shall pull out roots of your lazy, pitiful hair! "

Frightened wench that I am, I proffer,
"Alas, no great ideas do I have to offer! "

"What sheer nonsense, you big liar you."
She's a stern taskmaster, 'this poem a day, 'she strongly eschews.

Food, that people normally eat, lies cold on the floor at my feet.
I cannot eat, before a new poem, is fed to her first, 'tis her Olympian treat.

"Don't you even think of going to sleep! "
In protest, tears I cry  from sheer exhaustion and yes, I weep.

The sun greets me, with her, in Greek gown standing there.
A smile, so wonderfully bright, welcomingme to a day of writing poetry, original
and rare!

" Hide not behind words of beauty fair.
An entertainer, you are not, but do thou open your life and of your heart, share."

" Let your written melodic harmonies,
 Bring sweet love and baskets of genuine kindness everywhere! "

 With that midnight message, an opalescent chariot whisked her away.
 Imagining I wore Aphrodite's crown, to begin a soul awakening day.




July 26,2020