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
Andrew Green's Poems 
Nicely done!
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Thank you
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