Metaphorically Inking

   
       
Let's read what breed of spells we can spill      
From the alpha-beta brew cast into this caldron      
Bubbling with anticipation of soul burning sensations      
Boiling with blistering images that evoke a spinal chill      
Travelling up and down through interlocking bones      
That sway in the breeze atop the cloud where sleeps the idle muse      
Awakening our silent beast to bring forth her yawning roar      
That stirs the magic language swirling within her ink stained well      
The cloud she rested her bones upon turns dark and ominous        
A lyrical stain begins to rain down on two poets dripping verse      
At first a sprinkle gently taps the page one hushed whisper at a time      
Forming a sentence as if collaboration was a conspiracy of crime      
But when the line has sucked the blood and let the quill run dry      
Dipping the tip into her well with a yawp comes forth another line      
Soon the thick hot rain is pouring from a rhythmic thunder cloud      
Crying out the song to crown the long overdue expecting muse      
At last the tearful clamor has become our composed newborn's tune      
For conjoining a creative soul with muse on clouds so soft and lofty       
Brings to life in black and white, this brood dubbed poetry