By Vincent Valentine

A sonnet regarding writing:

In a far away land penning this line

With my thoughts only at hand, in only my time

I find myself alone, undisturbed,

In the quiet and the still, silent tones of my world

Where nothing in this world can vex me

Nothing; not a sound heard, perplex me

For I myself am the only one here, in this world my own

In a far away, forlorn but not lonesome town

Not lonesome I say for I myself am the ruler of the day

I myself am my own and my only company with whom to converse

Pondering all the plenty and writing verse upon this: my very own earth

I say this is the world my own; for all anxieties have I disowned

I live and each day my soul outpour as none ever before have done

All in this world my very own