A pen and a notebook: A poem 

On the lissom phantasmal nereid’s trail 

the slow boat of a yearning mind sets sail 

Would I keep seeking even if imagination fails 

in unrelenting meadows with a misty veil? 

I am armoured with just poor pen and notebook 

for the brook of magic to break out of vacant nooks 

This blood of patience, rising and falling like a rook 

Scouring discovery’s pastures with an intent look 

I feel the hunger for a creation of my very own  

A god waiting for gifts from seeds that were sown 

This electric need focused on spurts of conductivity 

Just not vanity fuels the passageway to infinity 

I use this spiritual calling for study, board and bed 

The stoic kitchen and pantry with no cynicism is fed 

I know too well that when my rhyme and lyric are met 

This paradise is what the country of fortitude begets