It Begins

A poem about writing

20 lines

It begins to dawn on me
As if an original thought.
My mind has been set free
From out of the web in which it was caught.

It was perhaps an epiphany
This idea of mine.
It crept in surreptitiously,
Perfect I’d say, well, perhaps borderline.

A brilliant plot, it’s going to be great.
A novel, a film, a Broadway Show?
As soon as I sit and begin to create
And the words begin to flow.

Oh, no, the words are fading quickly.
My mind is losing grip.
I’m holding on, but it’s getting slippery,
They’re sinking like a ship.

It’s gone. My dream of fame.
Perhaps it will renew
And up in lights you’ll see my name,
Creator, author, playwright, Sue.