A Flash of Inspiration

Inspiration comes to me in a flash,

Thus mostly, I grab a pen in a rush.

For fear of losing what seems to be rare,

A sort of precious gem beyond compare.

Carefully though, precise by the letter,

For the measures must come all together;

Even it’s not complicated numbers,

Even if it’s just words all scattered.

At times though, since I’m me I disregard,

Measures, “smeasure” I mix and bend backwards.

Otherwise I just set things free – let go;

Allowing all ideas build and flow.

For I see nothing wrong with free verses,

Or to thorns attached to pretty roses.

All there is – that flash of inspiration –

That pen rushing to its transformation.

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