The Birth Of A Poem

A ripple was caused into the still lake of knowledge
The inspiration had thrown a stone
The ripples touched the shore
And drenched it with imagination and lore

The Subject stood Naked and Naïve,
Restless, like a hurrying stream
Like the lighting that slipped from the pocket of the sky
Brightening the horizon with its occasional gleam

The bag of emotions was then searched
To give the subject a proper name
Tangled in the web of vocabulary,
Nouns, Pronouns and Adjectives, all looked the same

The shades of slang, the Colors of Idiom
Nothing qualified to give it a word
The creator in me, created a new one
A careless thanks from the lingo was heard

Then there began a naughty strife
Words were the swords and rhymes became knives
The churning in the ocean of mind began
To portray a girl, a women, a mistress or a wife

Soon the dark clouds of turmoil had shed
And the creative light descended
With no malice, words came to the pen
In to a poem like this, the language ascended

With a sudden flash of wisdom
And a Poem was done
Everything inspires a poet
A pen in hand and heavens are won!!