I live in the moon.
My precious shell
pierced amply by meteors
to form my oddly shaped windows.
Sunlight and rain flow in
bathing the trees I sit underneath.
The glow of stars reflect all around,
they hit the sides and
the stream I splash my feet in.

Twenty-four hours
there’s enough light
so day or night, I can indulge
my abiding drive to write
to the neglect of every other endeavor.

I sit, invested for hours,
pulled in, moved to tears
by thoughts beautiful and sad.
Page after page is curled
as I ink my ideas to them.

I’m safer here
to follow my inspirations
more than in any other location
with freedom to create
and room to build anything
to amazing crescendos
and resonant resolutions;
Since no telephone rings this far out.
No one’s radar detects me to tell me
what I ought to be doing.

Back on earth from my home
friends and family absently
turn their backs to me
expecting me to be unavailable.
It’s fair and reasonable and offers last minutes
to reflect on and delight in my recent efforts
even when I wind up with
less than the next prize winning verses.

©2009 Shari Lynne Smothers

Prompt: #105 Borrowed Words posted at Read Write Poem for the whole story.