That Woman In Print, By Brianrrs37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @brianrrs37 on Twitter)

I knew the moment
Sylvia spoke your name
My pen was burning
It got so warm
As I moved across your lines
My eyes aching with anticipation

I read your dark words at the table
I tried to write, but I was not able
You drew me into your kind
Hypnotized, by your dark mind

That women in print, writes mystery
She’s everything a poet should be
That woman in print, has a hold on me
I have no control, I’ll never be free

She’s a poet
Not an amateur anymore
The kind that stirs up inspiration
She writes to kill
I’ll take her pill
Into her world of imagination

I see that dark print on the table
I cant resist, my eyes are not able
She traps me in, feeds me well
Writes of Van Gogh, stories to tell

That woman in print
Escape she wont let
Me turn back now
I’m a fool for her prose
And she knows how

She’s my mistress
Long since gone
I read her now
But I was not born
That woman in print
Got a hold on me
I read her every day
She won’t set me free.
(end)

An ode to Anne Sexton, but if you detected some foreign sounding words, you are a good sleuth. And also an ode to Foreigner.