The Writer’s Desk

I write
At night in dull light
And as I kneel I feel
Surreal
At a desk without a chair
With papers, pens and boxes everywhere
Typing, tapping, amid the clutter
Recording any word I utter
Hoping they flow and work well together

I hope
I cope within the scope
Of imaginary faces in distant places
And people I know and don’t in equal measure

With situations so far fetched
Etched on my mind; my imagination stretched
I write
I hope
In my mind well…

I write what I feel as I kneel
With many a tale to tell.

This post has been written in response to a little challenge by Nancy over at Spirit Lights The Way. It’s actually a competition, but I’m merely entering for fun. If you’d like to enter, there are still a few days left. Visit Nancy’s site for more details!