Elegy

Overnight, an amazing spark
of genius visited my mind at rest,
piquing my languid muse to suddenly,
feverishly prod me into an awareness
of the possibilities in time and
opportunity forfeited to the nightly
abandonment of creative impulse.

Awakening to the dark stillness of the
early hours, my mind captured
brilliant expression and the poetry of
languaged imagery spilled into being,
creating a lilting, lovely poem, destined
to be captured, ready-made for
proud collection on the morrow.

Morning came, and creative
genius dissipated, dissolved
into a perplexing, empty disclaimer.
I sit, confounded and forlorn, with
a bitter-sweet taste of triumphant
remembrance of joy, incapable of
dredging into recall the leading line
of perfect prose to link what followed
to proud conclusion. That perfect
poem, never to be retrieved.