The wordsmith retires to his private place
to the forge inside his mind
pumps the bellows and stokes the fires
until they are burning with white hot inspiration

He plunges the iron ideas in to the heat
until it is ready to work with
beats them into shape on the anvil of his notebook
using the heavy hammer of his blue ink biro

Every time the hammer strikes
little sparks fly up and dance
words not needed this time depart
to used on another piece

Sometimes the ideas need refining
and have to be reshaped
parts of the cast are sometimes out of place
the spelling needs adjusting
all the time he stays at his smithy
sweat poring off him continuously
while he attempts to forge a master piece

Eventually his task is completed
and left to alone to cool
the forge is dampened down
to be used on the next occasion
his work here is completed
and ready to be seen by others