Words flow like raindrops
on a summer day,
Though sometimes they fly
Far far away,
like unexpected scenes
across the movie screen
of my mind.
Drifting like a waterfall
my characters they tell me all
The things I need to know
for stories that I so
long to tell.
It’s my job to capture
The words I hold so dear
before they disappear
to leave me far behind.
If I don’t take my pen
and write these nuggets down
slipping through my hands
they flutter to the ground
like pennies being tossed
in a wishing well.
While at other times,
They float upon the air
inspire and make me dare
To write poetry.
How do they come to you,
in your creative zone
racing like the wind
Or trickling one by one
As you sit all alone
In your writing space?
Rippling soft and sweet
Like leaves from a tree
they make my day complete
heedless of the place
where They find me.