Deep bright passion lingers
in the blood
Trickles through the vains
Pushes through the colorful mind
Always rebounding in need,
Always at a scrambling pace
Like a squirrel chasing a nut
This way and that with a tumbling need
More colors to brush the palate,
Next pages for the book
Another line for the poem
One more flower for the garden
Even as the night falls
Creative spirt haunts the dreams
Morning scans the sun, plays with clouds
New colors for the brush
Twists and lines for the poem
Bouquets from the flower garden
Creativity’s wicker basket bulges forever
Oh what a blessing for the ever churning mind.
