“nothing” Poem by Frank Letras

Nothing so stirs my soul
As the sight of a blank page
Another story waiting to be told
And one in which I shall engage

Nothing bewitches my troubled mind
More than an unused note book
Creative juices start to flow
Eyes gleam with the dull glow
Of the fish upon the hook

Nothing catches my heart more
Than the first faint scribbles on virgin paper
The words tumble out in streams
Pack the pages full of dreams
Before inspiration begins to taper

Writing is a kind of passion
Over which I claim no power
It happens of its own volition
At any time, day or hour

I was not born to write
Though writing is often born in me
I write mostly what I dream about
And rarely also what I see

Destiny binds to fate
Which sounds a little perverse
Nothing for me is more great
Than to see my thoughts in verse.