Sometimes a poem is a sudden tear
You never know when and why it will rise
Sometimes a poem is a vivid daydream
It appears in color before your wide-open eyes

Sometimes a poem is a fine sculpture
You can chisel it into a beautiful shape
Sometimes a poem is a lofty tower
You can erect it into a soaring sky-scape

Sometimes a poem is a naughty little girl
Who mocks at you from behind a half-open door
Sometimes a poem is a game of hopscotch
Like skipping through patterns drawn on a floor

Sometimes a poem is a playful lover
Who creeps up behind you and says “Guess who?”
Sometimes a poem is a bashful bride
Tiptoeing tentatively toward an eager you

Sometimes a poem is an April shower
That makes the flowers in your garden bloom
Sometimes a poem is a swing in the park
That cradles you and lifts you away from your gloom

We poets have a secret that is all our own
One that we have never before shared with you
Poems, like saplings, sprout on their own
Laboring over them is a thing we seldom do!