My Imagination

Stripp ing down to my socks, in an old faded tee,

or a worn sweatshirt, straight out of the dryer.

Snuggled deep into my chair, the one oversized,

writing down words I like to use, to get inspired.

Fitted carefully, into some story or a poem I have in mind,

disappearing, while never leaving the house.

Into worlds that lay in wait for me, to stumble right on in,

like some trap left out, for a wandering mouse.

Some music turned down low, and the window cracked a bit,

gets those juices flowing, like a waterfall.

Until I'm totally submerged, into a tale about to happen,

with the plot foreboding, waiting to unfold.

Oh, the mysteries and joy that come from letters on a page,

the places we will go, yet to be seen.

But, one thing I know for sure, it's gonna be a crazy ride,

to get it finished, so that someone else can read.