Writing is a disciplined work,
Taking patience and persistence
To forge a thought from imagination.
It takes the pounding of a concept,
Growing, changing its shape
To something beneficial and favored.
Not all writing is formed gracefully;
Sometimes it’s a drop of blood,
A line that needs other’s support.
It can be a bee on a hyacinth,
Flirting from one thought to another
Gathering its nectar and pollen.
It is a struggle, a wrestling of ideas
Taken to the mat and pinned.
The words flowing freely can happen,
But most is sweat, focus, and luck.
©2017 Valerie Hathaway