Day by day

For the last seven days

The poet had been at first to find

The mood to slip into the

Protective bubble

Of his artistic groove

Living in a room of his Muse

And touching the circles of his


Looking after an elderly friend

Administering his medication

Strictly within the agreed


On the surface an easier task

It seemed

Yet the poet had to learn the skill

To switch off from his duties

To the creative mood he’s

Looking forward to

Day by day.

His creativity has never been

This successful

Never been this prolific

Good deeds followed by good


A great experience

To be repeated?




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