I Sleep Poetry

Last night I wrestled with poetry As if a lion wrestling with its prey I sleep poetry I dream poetry I walk poetry on thin line ropes binding together steeply slopes I make love to poetry like a new catch On heat waiting to be let loose from its latch So out of ten if I am bad, take a pen And give me a score of five or a four I constantly make love to poetry With dramatic grammatical metaphors The root of my poetic hunger Is I starve myself a bit longer In sleep I twiddle my poetic lines Sharpen them to be as fine as a riddle I sleep poetry I drink poetry Not just to quench my thirst But to differentiate amongst Good, Better and Best There shall come the day I have to say When I will definitely call it a truce When I have run out of poetic juice 2006 - Sylvia Chidi