I’ve still more pages!
More verse-rhyme to write.
Pent-up the Crages
Last long into night.

The Crages are Rages,
Too Crazy to fight.
My wage is More Pages!
More verse-rhyme to write.

Offer me water,
Proffer me bread!
I’m just a prisoner,
Inside my head.

My Penance, the Sentence –
It’s writing, instead.

“Write out the Line!”
“Meter’s most helpful!”
“Make is all Rhyme!”

(The Harpies all said.)

Thus spake the Crages,
Willfully dreadful.
I swear! I’m my own maker,
My own bedevil!

Proffer me water,
Offer me bread.
The Harpies are hungry,
And they must be fed.

I’m my own prisoner
Locked in my own head.
More pages are needed,
Before off to bed.

I’ve still more fighting,
With writing ahead,
Thus spake the Crages,
My Harpies of head.

Knock…. Knock!
A Knock comes to door.

Who could be Knocking
At such dreadful hour?

“Tis I, the Raven.
I’ve knocked here before.
Come! Let me in.
I’ll help you write more.”

©2015, Marvin Welborn
6 April 2015. Revised 15Apr15.

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