The splendor of a thought,

Is when it takes shape.

We each dress a thought,

Unique in our own way.

Some leave a little showing

Tempting the naughty.

Others dress for the Winter,

Can't get caught on a cold day.

But our thoughts some times wander

And are hard to understand.

At least that's happened to me,

My comments are so bland.

But when the last period is placed,

There in front of you is your thought.

Some are revered forever,

But it matters not, it's yours.