I labor, with thought and precision
to display typed words of no meaning
joining them together to form some purpose
unknown to me until the end

Ideas swim inside my head like dolphins
as they dance, performing for tasty morsels
rewarded for their efforts, they retreat
and disappear beneath the waves

I type, with no attention to rhyme
or meter, or verse, or punctuation
for the message is not in grammar
but in the words, so carefully chosen

Nouns and verbs are my brushes
just as conjunctions and adjectives are pigment
your mind is my canvas, stark white
until my brush strokes a picture, perfectly clear


Lavender Leigh
October 2, 2007