Don't know why, but when I'm on a creative spurt I really need to be alone to work, and the hours just fly by.
Isolation and Creativity
Self-posed isolation,
Like a festering abrasion.
Exploration of the unknown,
World within shown.
Contented by the solitude,
That becomes a prelude.
Imagination churns,
Creativity once quiescent burns.
In wait to devour,
Every waking hour.
That, which now induced,
In spontaneity let loosed.
The insatiable appetite,
To work both day and night.
YOU ARE READING
Five Year Poem Plan - Part 1
PoetryI am going to attempt to write a poem a week for five years! It is a personal resolution that I am making public in order to hold myself accountable.
