Sonnet: A Poet’s Time

Unearthly hours of early morning time!
Hallowed be Thee for thy serenity;
Thou mak’th an artist toil by habit prime;
And show’th the road to Eternity.

What calmness stays around him at that time!
The time he plays his ‘Lute of Poesy’;
And noiseless earth goads him to make sublime,
His Life no more appears very stressy.

Albeit the noise of night’s tiny creatures,
The major world’s people appear to sleep;
Poets get solitude and right features
To think inspired, ink thoughts from the deep!

Glory to Thee, unearthly hours always!
Thou art the best for creators all days.

by Dr. A.Celestine Raj Manohar M.D.,

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