It came to me one day
As I lay in bed
A wicked idea
Just entered my head

For years I’d been silent
With not much to say
But it would all end
On that very day

I took up my pen
And began to write
Words rhyme and reason came forth
On that very night

Why I’d been silent for so long
I do not know
But like a raging river
The words began to flow

It wasn’t heartbreak
That prompted my muse
It wasn’t the sunset
Or some majestic views

I received a jolt
Of lightening I guess
I grabbed pen and paper
Like a man possessed

I wrote of the heartache
Joys and the tears
I wrote of my struggles
Throughout the years

I wrote of my loves
I wrote of my wife
I wrote of the pain of loss
That cut like a knife

I poured out my heart
To that paper and ink
But what happened to me was a gift
I’d like to think

My hand was controlled
By a force not my own
Divine inspiration perhaps
Moved muscle and bone

The gift I accepted
Came to me from on high
For it I am grateful
I dare not question why

So remember Dear Friend
When you read my words and my rhyme
That my message comes from
Another place
Another time

That my message comes from
Another place
Another time