While scribbling words that flow from my heart
as fast as my fingers can move,
I stop, look back, and ask myself,
“Will the reader feel my groove?”

I wonder…
Do simplistic phrases on the canvas
engage more than two or three senses?
Do the paragraphs, lines, and spaces
creatively capture vital dimensions?

I wonder …
if I lay the rhythm of the scene first
to set the pace of this account,
will my selection of words that follow
keep time or screw up the count?

I wonder…
if the sensual aroma of my clauses remain
in the nostrils of many or a few,
if the metaphors appoint a balance, and
the similes reflect a frank hue?

I wonder…
was the seasoning of the last string scribed
overly acidic, or was it too sweet?
Is the punctuation applied considerate of the
Times text preceding that last downbeat?

I wonder…
Is the paint spread with sublime accuracy
capturing every camber and break?
Will the stiffness in the sketch be evident
and cause loins to throb and ache?

I wonder…
will my scribbles cause powerful eruptions
and earn a sensual review of credit?
Or must I return to the top of
the page to revise, correct, and edit?