THIS STILL NIGHT HAS ME STIRRING POEM BY @SUTTER

This still night has me stirring.
The twiddling of fingers.
Wondering what to do next.
A poet full of pomes.
Perhaps, a book of poetry next.
What sweet flower would inspire.
The seeds of budding words begin flowering.
A garden to host angels and serpents.
The swirling waters sounding a slurp.
This night has me stirring.
A guitar strung and mostly in tune.
A guitar dancing like a puppy for another treat.
Delicate fingers callused by musics symphony calling.
The rolling grass winding between fingertips.
A sunder from the world outside.
Tip toeing down the path.
Hiding in the darkness.
This still night has me stirring.
A taste of a mango drink.
Prepared for relaxation.
Ready for the restful spark.
No daunting tasks to fulfill.
There's imagination to be inspired.
The stars being to reveal themselves in the sky.
Who am I truly?
This still night has me stirring.
"Who is anyone?"
It's anyones guess.
Alone or surrounded by ghosts?
Anything can happen.
A full charge and energy.
The cool of concrete on my feet.
Enclosed in a tiny tent.
All there is to do is enjoy a chill session.
This still night has me stirring.

A poem by Christian Thomas Sutter
@Sutter
http://www.christiansutter.com