Tuesday, October 21, 2008


Sometimes restless leaves your mind and finds its way to your fingers.

Sometimes very late at night
I sit staring at the page of white
Waiting impatiently for something to write
With a mind too restless to fight

I swear I can hear the whistle of the train
Of the thoughts that amble through my brain
From the life changing to the very inane
Passengers boarding and de-boarding in the rain

It does no benefit to attempt to sleep
Thoughts have been planted waiting to reap
Sorting through, finding what to toss and what to keep
With even those eventually cast to the junk heap

The harvester must make its cutting pass
Everything falls, both flower and grass
Every word and syllable that doth sleep surpass
Gathered and bundled into thinking’s morass

Eventually the fervor begins to cool
Words begin to drown in exhaustions pool
Dying ignominiously in a good writers drool
Some escaping to become the words of a fool

Such are the anthems of the restless
The diatribes of the blest-less
The ramblings of the success-less
The poetry of the impress-less

To restless flight 101


Heather of the EO said...

You are a gifted writer, Ron.

It's nice to "meet" you here in bloglandia. I appreciated your words today about my boys growing too fast. Tomorrow will come quickly but will be just as sweet. (that was close right?) :)

I love that line. Thank you.

Becky said...

"It does no benefit to attempt to sleep
Thoughts have been planted waiting to reap"

I always thought I was certifiable because I've lost count of the times I have to get out of bed and write something down so that I can actually go back to sleep. Darn this busy brain of mine!

It happens to a lot of people, though, doesn't it?

Angie Ledbetter said...

Isn't it fun being in the crazy writer world? ;)

Anonymous said...

I take that flight once a week! Too bad they don't serve better snacks on it.

Blessings, Whitney