I stare out the window at the gathering stormclouds, <br />My pencil posed above the blank paper <br />I can feel inspiration swirling around me <br />From the majestic rumble of thunder <br />To the smell of rain in the air. <br />How exactly is a poem supposed to start? <br />My pencil is still hovering above the paper, <br />Its meaningful words still trapped inside the lead. <br />Maybe I just need to sharpen it again.<br /><br />Lynne Crandall<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/inside-the-lead/
