I stare at blank paper. I’m waiting. I’m thinking.
The little line there, waiting and blinking.
I listen for the whispers to come.
Don’t think. Just write. Relax and circum.
Words on paper. Lovely little words,
More for my delight than to be heard.
Curling and laughing around little thoughts,
The words love to play and they love to be caught.
Writing and reading. Sipping coffee. I’m pleased.
Watching words tangle. They spin and they tease.
No topic, no purpose other than to play,
The words keep on whispering and dancing away.