Like a Spring-time storm
My words poured over the page
Filling in the white
Like a frightening flash flood
After a few months in drought.
Just as abruptly,
My words will dry on the page,
Where they will remain,
Untouched, perhaps forgotten,
Until the next storm passes.
Winter froze my muse,
But each letter, word, and verse~
Thaws the deepest freeze.
Poetry is my spring rain,
My unashamed thunderclap.
Ignoring my doubt,
My heart stumbles forward with,
Unannounced passion.
Like this storm of wind and rain,
There is no way to tame me.