A rivulet of sweat

A rivulet of sweat

Ran down the author’s brow

Had to write a poem

But wasn’t sure just how.

 

The sweat trickled down his forehead

The sweat trickled off his nose

Where would he find a poem?

Heaven only knows!

 

The sweat gathered in a puddle

It gathered on the floor

He found his inspiration was

Not stuck any more.

 

By the sweat of his brow

He found it, found a new idea

When inspiration’s needed

You’ll often find it near.

 

Via Rivulet

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