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On creativity

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What is a writer without a pen?
Useless, one might say
What is a painter without a brush?
A stranger, no, a stray

The writer listens to the rain
In case of pen nor ink
And so a new idea is formed
Which makes like rain a drink

A drink that likely is to be
Sweeter than any wine
Which replaces pen and ink
For a writer to pass time

The same goes for the avid painter
All he does is observe
And if an idea discovered be
He will not have to swerve

For he paints masterpieces with
Merely the skill of thought
Dissects his subjects every way
To find out what is bought

Both artists can do anything
As is asked of their kind
And making others it to see
Is just a snippet of their mind



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