Sonnet-The Time for Poem-writing

In the late hours, following each mid-night;
In the wee hours, before each early Dawn;
After my talk with God and Devils' fight,
Most of my inspired poems are born.

For, that’s the time, the world in slumber lies;
The daily din of people hasn't begun;
My inward eye and heart, tend to be wise;
I think of problems grave, under the Sun.

Why things have gone-awry? '-to find, I try;
To God, can I my duties well discharge?
With God, -I argue, plead converse and cry;
My heart is anguished by the world at large.

God shows me many things that most don't see;
I love to walk 'hind Him to Calvary.

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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