theres nothing to fear , not even the birds , im just a writer theyre only words a literary mind i sit here , thinking in my usual space , my minds eye takes me to another place , where the books about me speak out loud , of writers , ancient , so very proud , of characters , creations , denouements great , of moral dilemmas to relate ; poe and hardy and dickens , too , shakespeare , lawrence , take me through , stories that come from mighty minds , as brilliant plots begin to unwind , genres proliferate as they write , space trips , detectives , no respite , as genius is portrayed in glorious prose , love stories , tragedies , heroes repose , within the pages until read , coming alive as your mind is fed ; inspiration , one and all , constantly they do enthral , the wannabe writer such as me , surrounded by literary divinity memoirs life pt .