Bliss

A small poem which I'm very proud of, it's about 'writing' and the joy of inspiration.

Steam from the coffee is dancing within the mug
as a cigarette is blazing in the ashtray,
which is overflowing with buds.

Music is on low and the sky is lit only by the high moon
as ink hits the paper with a profusion of ideas,
its like an explosion with a sensation of satisfaction

Dreams come to realization,
an hour passes in just a minute
and you're consumed by thought, by feeling.

In a cell, at home, out,
when the pen does the Waltz with a sheet,
your mind runs free and with no worries.