Sometimes I think I need to step aside,
relax, and let the words come as they may,
not coax them from the caves wherein they hide.

Another writer understands the pride
I feel when words come fast, light up my day.
I think, though, that I need to step aside,

and to allow them their wide berth, their slide
from visibility to sheaths of gray.
I won’t coax them from caves wherein they hide,

although I cannot easily abide
the fickleness of words and how they play
with my desire to write. I’d step aside

more gracefully if I knew they would ride
onto my screen and let me have my say.
They sometimes live in caves and need to hide

from all my yammering. I now confide
words’ power held over me, and so I stay
in my world waiting for my muse to stride
near:  You no longer have to step aside.

(a villanelle)