Command Performance
/Pitter patter, pitter patter, rain’s incessant falling spatters
Its somnambulistic charms within my ears is all that matters
For it causes me to nod despite my mind’s attempts to prod
My sluggish fingers to produce some kind of verse with which to laud.
Though the world outside is damp, poetic muse has made her camp
Her intent, within my mind, to hang her lamp
For she loves my pen quite dearly, inspiration offered clearly
As she softly whispers verses quite sincerely.
The rain becomes her voice, commanding pen, it has no choice
As its inky water speaks but makes no noise.
I sit and calmly listen as the drops on windows glisten
And my hand completes my muse’s given mission.
By James Geehring