I wrote most of this poem in my sleep.
|I have decided on the theme,
I have chosen the poem's form,
I have completed eight whole lines,
And when I fall asleep I dream,
That my words grow into a storm,
Raining metaphorical mines.
As I am woken from my sleep,
I write every phrase as it comes,
Writing jumbled lines and stanzas;
Into my drowsy mind rhymes creep,
While the syllables sound like drums:
Great simile extravaganzas.
Somewhere inside this mess of words,
I know that there are odes hiding,
To find them, I just have to look,
Gather them in separate herds,
Like horses waiting for riding,
And transcribe them into a book.
When writing poetry in bed,
Make sure that your mind is awake, to hear the words it said.
Poet's Note: ▼