Midnight. At the windowsill,
Moon reminds me.
Sprinkling silver pixie dust,
Lighting up the path
For Words to find me.
…
Sleep spreads its blanket
On the neighbouring bed.
Enraged Jealousy urges me
To shake awake
The Sleepyhead.
…
Muse nudges the
Story hiding within.
Spying the pen, she retreats,
Fearful of the ever-
judging Punctuation.
…
Sleep warns Desperation–
Inching towards her patrons
to seek help.
Sense prevails.
Who wants grumbly audience?
…
Responsibility cautions
To wait for the first light.
Unacceptable though,
I watch Moon sitting on the windowsill,
Sprinkling moonlight.
Author’s note: I have not learnt writing poetry, but I dabble with it sometimes.
- I have tried a 1-2, 1-2-3 dancing style here.
- Personification is meant to build a crowd on an otherwise quiet, lonely night.
- I have also tried shape-writing to bring a sense of repetition where you return from where you start.
Please let me know which part of it worked and what sucked. :)
