A writer is a witch’s cauldron,
full of toil and trouble.
And as a poem comes to mind,
the pot begins to bubble.
It starts out as a single thought,
rising to the surface.
Then faster, faster they roil up,
til all boils at a purpose.
When it is finished, the story told,
you’ve no more to do.
The battle settled, your reward won,
until it starts anew.
(C) 2007 by Diane Tegarden from “Light Through Shuttered Window”