I had six scrambled pages of my notes.

I had six inky pages of crushed notes.
From a villanelle I tried to write
Corrections,edits, what I thought, I wrote.

Some of it was cliche or was quote
It was a very private, hidden sight
I had six pages of cramped inky notes.

Should I  reveal the work I  do, first thoughts,
Or keep you in the dark about my rites?
Corrections, edits, what I thought, I wrote.

There is  no answer only many “oughts”
Should these hidden jumbles come to light?
I had six scrambled pages of my notes.

My first thoughts of a theme are scarcely taut.
The   process opens windows shut and tight
Corrections, edits, what I thought, I wrote.

First, the  buried feelings must be caught
For my deeper thoughts, I watch at night.
I had six scrambled pages of my notes.

Passionate the feelings that ignite
The work of  poets with  their fiery sparks
I had six inky pages of handwritten notes.
Corrections, edits, what I  caught at night