I have so many stories
and so little time
between poetry, prose,
free verse and rhyme
and the words swirl about me
in taunting black waves
teasing with hints
of both knights
and of knaves
There are fantasies curled
beside harrowing tales
where history speaks
and true love never fails
in ink and on paper
in print and on screens
the characters speak to me
with or without means
And their stories
in whispers
trail over my mind
sometimes in fast-forward
and sometimes rewind
Most often I face them
with pen and with thought
until I am weary
and quite overwrought
For who can keep up
with ideas that flutter
that nip and that tag
that climb on and clutter
Who can tame dreams
who can silence a notion
especially ones
that cause fervored emotion
Certainly not even fairy or muse
not anyone to whom
the words simply choose
No rest for the writer
time wrestles to claim
their sleep hours waking
to gather one’s name
no pause for the clause
phrase or run on that be …
because I can’t ignore now
the words chasing me
this quotable life 