Ideas (half-baked) which used to glow

With an inner promise of beauty

When turned around and placed

With their feet on the ground

Dissolved into the dust of the brain

Tossed into the gutter, with rain pattering

against their feeble souls, their ink washed away

And running down the drain

Scrapped and thrown to the side like wrapping paper

on Christmas Afternoon

Undercooked thoughts

Have a dreadful fate.

If Only It Were This Easy…….

Pick up the pen

Pull off the cap

Smooth the page

Dig in your mind

Pull out the idea that glows

Toss it around in front of your eyes

Turn it inside out

Stand it on its head

Draw the sparkle out of the thought

Put it into your pen

And let it do the rest