A blank sheet of paper, white as snow
Stares quietly, intently, waiting for me
To let a hint of inspiration show

Pen in hand, my ideas grow
While the paper says, “Write when I count to three,”
And my brain begins knotting like bread dough

Now, now, assuring myself, this is no public talk show
No fear of anticipating the third degree
So I let my mind go, quick and free

Organization is key, this we know
Despite its difficulty I always agree
To check where this word has to coordinate with that other word below

My brain's content for the day had run out a while ago
Yet I'm still writing my conclusion, and must disagree
That it takes a flowing mind to write, when we can easily tell a stranger “hello”

At this state, all my senses are enveloped in my writing, from head to toe
Feelings in tune with my characters, atmospheres, emotions, I can guarantee
That's when I remind myself, for the millionth time, of the writer's gifts we've been bestowed