ravished

ravished

okay, it’s true
I’m ravished by poems.
lines brush me awake at
twelve, one, two
if I resist getting up, they’ve
vanished by dawn.
gone. I’m left bereft

words stalk, draw me
from bed—most every
night now—a phrase
threads through me
like tendrils of dreams,
shakes me and won’t let go
until they find their home

here on the page.
I’ve given up
no more withholding.
words, have your way
confide to my heart
pry me open
play me, your flute

2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—they may never turn into anything more or they might flower.

4 Comments

Filed under feelings, insomnia, memoir, Musings, Poetry, Surrender, writing

4 responses to “ravished

  1. Bud

    Sounds like a beautiful love affair

  2. Margaret Rooney

    Skye, This is wonderful!!! Yes, it is specific enough, you are describing a process, You’ve got “lines brush me awake at 12, 1, 2” Very specific and clear. ” a phrase threads through me like tendrils of dreams” lovely image. “words have your way confide to my heart pry me open play me, your flute” Very visual, and beautifully worded. A fine and finished poem, Skye!

    Did it come after the bead one? That sometimes happens when you work on a difficult poem..you get a gift poem afterwards. It is a joy to read your work! Hugs🥰

    >

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