sometimes when I’m taken
by the beauty of a lovely thing

deep in my mentality a certain strange vitality
will push to override my random thought
then swelling in reality, still distant from totality
I'11 comprehend an embryonic plot
that grows to actuality with easy informality
in ways these things, I’m sure, are never taught  

first a flow of lyric chatter
comes to play a pitter-patter
so like a throbbing drumbeat on my mind
and words in tumbled timing
to unconscious form and rhyming
are a mist that starts to shape into design

gentle lines then start to dawn
that each the following will spawn
and bring another one to birth
as racing senses fan ahead
to scan the wordy watershed
while sorting out alternatives of worth

til soon the thoughts are growing warm
in sweeping words of ending form
that clarify the drift...
and I’ve been lent a special gift
'twas like an unwatched pot that boiled
until the story was uncoiled
to usher limp, my body back to earth.