The Soul Hour Times

How now, poet, when all is dark
And the universe summons frost
To vanquish the creative spark
Like a treat...entropically sauced?
It's tempting to go back to bed
And to sleep until half past noon,
But then all the stars will have fled
And I would miss that midnight tune
That calls out to me all night long
For things to say, or leave unsaid,
With a little Italianate song
That parks in my nocturnal head
And churns until my eyeballs ache...
To the lullaby of daybreak!