Tis was the season of napowrimo nights
That kept me awake divulging on the bed of my thoughts
Prompts that surprised my tiny mind to leave its space
And escape to a creative shore.
Tis was the season of napowrimo nights,
when my ink strangely wished to whisper its thoughts only at that time
The mornings were spent absorbing the night effect
And the afternoons in soul searching the new.
Tis was the season of napowrimo nights
When the pen became the voice of my heart
It sang and recited new verses aloud
To its lovely audience, the stars and the moon.
Tis was the season of Napowrimo nights
That nudged the poet in me to tickle the sleepy ideas awake
Tranquility laid its perfect setting to breakfree
Bringing in bliss of showtime for this poet to pen each page.
Copyright ©2015 by Elvira Lobo- Its My Life
Disclaimer: The image(s) in the post are taken from Google. I don't claim any of its rights.
Labels: Me, Memories, Napowrimo, Pen, Poem, Poet, Poetry, Writings