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

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