Hi there! I couldn’t really think what to write today, and so this strange sort of creation happened, which I hope you enjoy.
My thoughts drift, as obscure as fog,
Running listlessly across a
Collection of blank pages,
Open ended and crafted
From unfulfilled potential,
Waiting for a break of sunlight
To etch ink across the faded leaves,
Cream in this new-awakened dawn.
Pen is held, quivering with
Anticipation,
Until a single tear falls,
Blotting the perfection, and
Suddenly,
As if this was the first drop of a tidal wave,
The words come swarming down, scattered
Haphazardly, from somewhere unknown
Above the clouds;
And it is simply my job
To order them as they come,
And hope for the best.
A Teacup Full of Stories 