"Fascination"

The paper, pure, seductive, sends its call,
Daring me to write immortal verse;
A pencil lies here, neat and magical --
This lure to pen and parchment is a curse!
There is no poem crying for release,
No thought I must express before it's lost;
But in my restless little search for peace
I opened the wrong drawer, and so was tossed
Into the fire of my addiction, which I can
But quell by adding fuel in scanning rhyme.
At length this page is sullied by the span
Of fourteen lines, and I'm safe for a time.
Blank sheets, fresh pens or pencils, trap my mind:
I must write, good or bad. Critics, be kind.


Kay Nanling Michaelson, 1971

I like this poem because writing is, in fact, seductive. Once you start, you can't stop.