How shall thou let my knowledge kingdom,
know I am bestowed with poetic wisdom?
Seldom do I feel the verve before composition,
Neither do I feel my act, as that of imposition.
Words that are spliced, with no visible connection;
becomes a phrase, with astonishing perfection.
How shall I explain, the genesis of such a thought,
in a brain of my kind, which is otherwise drought
Spasms of thoughts occur, beyond my hold;
cannot say when, it shall for me unfold.
An ability which I cannot demonstrate,
causes my heart to often agitate
When shall thou come and say,
I have not committed a poetic heresy.
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