The lights are on upstairs tonight,
And shadows move behind the shade.
It seems I cannot douse the light,
Until I write what must be said.
The words are frantic to be free,
To dance across my empty page.
Those I ignore, will scream at me,
Until I open wide the cage.
Should I not quickly write them out,
Or try to hold them in my mind;
When I check back, without a doubt,
There's nothing left for me to find.
So, pen in hand I just comply,
And write the words I want to keep.
When I am finished, I will sigh,
Put down my pen, and go to sleep.
Mick McKellar
April 2015
There's no fighting it, when the words want to play, I never get a bye.
Mick
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