Pure

 Grit my teeth.. cease
My heart skips a beat
My smile broadens... crease
Inspiration unleashed

All 6 senses.. heighten
Proceeding the evening
Stringed up and synapsed
Collapsed lungs.. start breathing

Oh my, such a sweetness
A big ticket item
The deal only sweetens
When infused with writing

You may tyraid for nine days
Until you get migranes
Instead of controlling
Be ocean, waves rolling

This idea is stolen
Like air from the ozone
Delighted to sea all the police
Patrol on

Such anticipation..
Both aware and waiting
The fire springs rapido
In emancipation

Ooowee this is splendid
A climate more temprid
A unified blessing
Gives this poem an ending..

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