The Nod
My mind gives the fruits of my imagination a nod
My pen is full with anticipation
Sometimes what comes seems odd
Some worth of expression for the keeping
Perhaps a truth that I am seeking
Or more often reading for the sleeping
Rarely a work of which I am awed
The ink stops and I pronounce it is done
The interpretation by another to endure
Seeing through the eyes of another one
A dialogue for the sharing
Freedom of thoughts for the airing
The weaknesses always glaring
It is a special, sometimes painful, sort of fun
My mind gives the fruits of my imagination a nod
What a wonder it can be with just a prod
The searching for expression is hard to see
The subjects to choose are always free
The love of doing it is just me
Another is done from a talent that is flawed
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