Cruel and unusually persistent belief that YOU, TOO, can be a poet.
Twice recently, I've had bouts of this dread disease. Once when I needed a poem for a story/novel I was working on (can't remember which at the moment,) but once I start in on the piece again, I'm sure I'll again become susceptible to it..., and last night when a friend got me going on Neil Diamond.
I downloaded a song I'd never heard that was on a 2008 album, Tap Roots Manuscript, called African Trilogy. The site previewed the first thirty seconds of each number, and two cases, never got to the actual singing part. DUH BUH... they were instrumentals. So into my head pops the idea of creating a lyric for African Trilogy. Well, I've got pieces... and kept myself happily occupied for ten or so hours, between phone calls. Several lines actually rhyme...
The early parts caused serenity, clear skies, grassy veld/I lift my eyes up to the hills beyond/As I walk along with water jug (picture it on her head...)
Upbeat middle dancing section came out I am so happy my heart is singing/I'm so happy my heart sings/The earth is so happy its heart sings of God's majesty, God's love/Dust motes jig in God's sunbeam/All dance the Lord's praise
The piper plays to his sheep/The birds soar in sky's deep/Serenity; God-granted serenity.
The sound of the setting sun slowly sinking is followed by a repetition of themes.
Lovely. Wish I could do it justice.