Into the melting pot of words,

Left to simmer till well done.

Stir on occasion, lest they stick,

Sprinkle some humor just for fun.

And when the pot of words is finished

I remove the lid and stir some more.

You can tell when they are complete

When they arrange themselves not to bore.

So much of my poetry is done this way,

I just add the words and the pot does the rest.

But one day the words went on strike

Saying I only use the words that are best.

I told them I have no control of what comes out,

That's been planned in the pot before I touch it.

I remove the words already connected.

They saw my reasoning and the strikers split.