Sonnet for a sleeping beauty. No.2

If I should find myself without a word, A-stumbling, breathless, pacing round the floor, Do I fight 'til inspiration's spurred Or rest awhile, collect my thoughts once more? Revealing inner truths, a burden lifted, Empties out the soul and clears the eyes; Yet should such thoughts be writ and freely gifted Outwith the bounds of other worldly ties? Understanding not to pen in haste - Key to progress is, and lights the path. Each word herein is felt and carefully placed; Leftmost lies the truth within in my heart. Lightly meant, yet so this verse shall spill: You make of this whate'er your heart doth will.