A big house
with a study and lawn
A little money
to call my own
Would then my poems be more profound?
and new ideas
my essays expound?
Sylvia Plath…?
crazed by her craft?
Virginia Woolf with stones in her pockets
To remain grounded
and let my dreams defer?
With tradition shall my poems concur?
Write haikus
and of love borrowed
Or like Hughes, let it exlode?