i am a lonely poetess
without words to express,
how much writing means to me
like sand calling to the sea,
when i am not home;
there are words in my suitcase,
where ever i may roam,

last night the muses made me wake up
time to write again, which fills me up,
when life overwhelms and i do not know how
the next sun will rise,
i wipe a tear from my eye
writing into the night
until everything's alright,

when everything goes wrong
and days feel so long,
when bills are high, and i have to sigh,
{and i'm too poor to pay attention}
i just let my mind go,
until deep in my soul,
poetry flows into a smile,
then i know all is well for a while,

living high on this misty mountain,
far from cities and trains.
nature is totally awesome,
with the thunder and the rains,
solitude and memories; opportunities
that have knocked on my door,
the 'if onlys' of life as it was once before
writing by candlelight and tears
poetess me, through the years:)

through life's storms and sunny days
poetry always finds a way,
if ever i lost my gift, surely i'd be adrift,
for i need to write,
like the earth needs the sky,
with me my pen goes
whichever way the wind blows...