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Ghost WriterFrom where do you come All of you Wake me up in the middle Of the night Slap me upside my head Pay attention - NOW! Stay with me inside My eyes And mind Until I can no longer wait To get them out Words? From what unknown source Tumbles Words and phrases Rhythms and rhymes Coming so fast at times I can barely keep up When I could swear On any stack of Bibles You choose to put before me Some unseen hand Takes hold of my own And my pen Guiding me with urgency And the thought THIS is the way It should be written? Oh, and the message So much more poignant Than my own simple times Of sitting poised Before blank paper or screen Picking a subject Creating verse by force of will Only Until... I am humbled by gratitude And awe At the sheer beauty and intensity Of it all. Yet I wonder... Would it matter if The answers were revealed Or would it be As always Never so much about the journey Of the messenger Than about The gift Of The message? Pat Reeves (c) November 17, 2002 Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem |
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