Fingers dancing, tango with the pencil,
Like Mozart at his piano, a new concerto.
Words flowing from his fingertips,
Black on white and a coffee stain in the corner.

This story, finishing, coming to a close,
Another day come and gone.
A smile upon his lips, triumph in his mind,
words to sentences to paragraphs and soon the story ends.

Then, a new page, a new story.
He hesitates,
He pauses,
He stops.

Then a bee sting, a bell’s ring
Inspiration strikes, a giant’s left hook.
The dam breaks and a black river flows.
Black on white, the pristine page soiled.