through the window, darkness
trees shrouded by shadows
harboring what scurrying things?
what fruits, flowers?
and where the fruits of my labor?!
oh, for the light of day to shine
upon elusive thoughts, to illuminate
the goal of this effort, endless
yet surely to some end
some ingenious notion
some admired innovation
the creator of these is showered
with ample praise and adoration
and expected to bring forth yet more
and with ease and elation
can you not sense the agony?
do you not see these endless nights
in my tired eyes?
this wretched thing it is to create
yet oh, the glorious wonder
in casting these eyes upon
a thing which I have created
and so I keep on
Copyright © 1997 Denise M. Clark
© Copyright 2008 chickadee (UN: deeclark at Writing.Com).
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