The days work is done home you go,
To a secret life that not many no,
Spruce your self-up and a cup of tea,
Then pen, to paper, for us to read.
Two or three poems some times four,
Each night you write more and more,
Delivering verse and rhyme by the score,
Relentless of how many you’ve written before.
Then onto your web site its time to log on,
To add on your work to the ones forgone,
And all for the glory of others to see,
Thank you night poets especially from me.
