To whom it may concern:
Every Friday I'll post one poem that I wrote. Here's my poem for this Friday.
Midnight Poet
Twelve hours from twelve
the ink dips the quill
and the words paint on parchment
of a blank white computer screen.
Half past halfway to two
Miracles scatter from a fraying mind
dance in circles on the squeaky swivel chair
and go their separate ways.
Ten half dozen minutes to three
a tired heart quickly pounds the beat
to noteless songs and ballads,
keeping time with the metronome cursor.
A quarter to a quarter on the clock
an cast of ideas and a crew of images
work their acts and scenes
into life, on a stage of metered lines.
Half a day before noon
the midnight poet scratches away
with his metaphor quill, and imagery ink,
while the handless clock ticks away in his mind.
Later guys,
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