I’m never lonely walking that scripted road of escape,
that’s where my characters walk with me and start to take shape.
Every tree and blade of grass has a cryptic dance of its own,
when pan piped they frolic in tempo of mystical tone.
My newfound friends travel with me stitched in letter thread, it seems,
they roll around my bed provoking visits from restless dreams.
Through winter they waltz in my fireplace with triple time turns,
lending the warmth that my frigid pen so desperately yearns.
Oh! This tireless company inside my head I need share,
it’s a burdensome undertaking to brunt and to bear.
Shall I allow them to simply flourish with untold fate,
chancing my illusive friends will surrender and vacate?
Undeniably a writing club is quite what’s needed,
to dig a bit deeper and harvest crops long time seeded.
The path can be exhausting but I need not walk it alone,
I’ll find help guiding my footsteps to the beat of rhythmic poem.
Trying to rid my mind of self–doubts and self-corrections,
‘Writing Women of Zurich’ aid with supportive suggestions.
Now I’ve filled a niche that has been barren for quite some time,
happy to be amongst them so they can help complete this rhyme…