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My Condition Is Called Poetry

I have stumbled across a new passion: writing. It is proving to be insightful and rewarding.

Clouds gather over Lake Superior, Paradise, Michigan

Clouds gather over Lake Superior, Paradise, Michigan

I can’t stop.
I don’t want to stop.
Letter by letter, the words drip off the ends of my fingers like ink from a fountain pen.
Oh my goodness, is there a cure for this condition called poetry?
Certainly DON’T bother me when you know I’m writing!
The side affects are horrendous.
Lack of sleep.
Too much sleep.
Severe irritability.
Confused foggy brain.
Clear discerning thoughts.
Lack of personal hygiene.
Words with meaning.
Words without meaning.
Text that cries.
Text that laughs.
Words in the wrong order.
Words in the correct order.
Lines that encourage confidence.
Lines that tell of love and life.
Nature even makes an appearance.
The spirit of the universe embraces me, influences me.
I awaken to the left and to the right.
I am guided to walk with love and light, as life surges from the darkness of the night.
I am grateful for the love of others.
I am thankful for divine courage sent from above.

© 2020 Laurie S Novak

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