Journey To My Last Page Poem by Shirley Harrison

And as I ponder

on exactly what my next poem will look like?

I reflect on the very moment

my muse takes hold of my precious pen

swirling, weaving

and sometimes even flying over

to the next page

lines and lines of imagery

be it, white fluffy clouds

reaching down

tickling the top branches of the great cypress

or of a heart broken in two

laid in the gutter in full view?

or even love holding on tight

to a comet that shoots into eternity

perhaps even an Angel

having tea eating a slice of victoria sponge

on her finest crystal plate?

or even my raven greeting the scarecrow

that lives on the small patch of yellow grass

outside my kitchen window?

I ponder in my own mind

waiting in anticipation

in hope she will visit me soon

for that one magnificent moment

when my imagery comes alive

my muse, she's never let me down

and I cannot help but think

just how damn lucky

I am?