The clock tick-tocked to midnight

But my pen went on with its rhyme.

Though my body tired, my pen was fired

With a disregard for time.

When the poet head is asleep in bed

And the last of the long night lingers,

The verse is dead in the poet head

But still spills out of his fingers.

About Elaine H Leone

Author of THE GRANDIES and GRANDY GOOSE RHYMES available through and