The Mother of Invention

In the midst of my contemplations,
Musing here in front of the screen,
Hazelnut-flavored pipe tobacco calls out to me
And shouts, "Give us a try! Give us a try!"

"But why?" I softly say,
Leaning forward to reply.
"It is your duty, we're cheering you on,"
They say to me, so I decide to abide.

In the midst of my pipe smoking pleasure,
Musing there on the porch outside,
The shining moon smiles down upon my face
And says to me, "from my light there is nowhere to hide."

"You may be on to something, clever moon,"
I say back as the tides churn elsewhere
From his great gravitational swoon
That climbs through the gaseous earth's atmosphere.

Just then I awoke, my forehead stuck
To the little black keyboard keys.
Just my luck to be falling asleep
At the mercy of The Mother's means;

Oftener than not I stare too long
At the soft, white, glowing screen.
Next time around it's caffeine for prevention
From the slack and slumber
Towards The Mother Of Invention.