What now?, I think as I gaze
upon a spotless house.
The kids are with their friends.
No mediating their angry bouts.
I need nothing from the store.
Shopping is not my thing.
No fancy clothes or makeup,
and certainly no bling-bling.
I search the house for projects,
come up empty-handed there.
My eyes fall on the computer,
and it becomes an obsessive stare.
I sink into the swivelling seat,
imagination beginning to soar.
Flames are igniting in my soul,
burning me at my core.
I click on my favorites button,
dispense my emotions in rhyme,
knowing I'll get feedback
from other writers in due time.
I love this online home of mine.
Writing.Com is the site.
A place to share my creations,
an aspiring poet's delight.
© Copyright 2005 Crissy (UN: crissy at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
Crissy has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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