In my element

 

I cocoon myself in a creative cave

where I luxuriate and fondly bathe

It is my demi paradise and retreat

where I take my fill of drink and meat

 

Books and more books precariously stored

surround the wall to prevent me from being bored

Pens, paper and ink with many a blot

is my sofa my warm cradling cot

 

One lamp is all the light I need

as I sit propped up in order to read

Then I write with my pen on paper

letters which I shall post sometime later

 

The cave is where my piano lives with me

a place which few ever do seldom see

My inner sanctum of prayer and meditation

free from a world so ridden with consternation

 

Music filters through my daily chores

more often do I hear piano notes that soar

My mind soon comes alive to create

where there is nought which can suffocate

 

The telephone and other devices are subdued

not that I wish to be unsociable or rude

Imperative it is that I remain alone

without the incessant ubiquitous telephone

 

My mind becomes a slide show of thought

where past memories to the fore are brought

These produce the seeds I need to write

and often do so well into the night