The boy asked, "How do you write a poem?"
and the teacher was perplexed 
How can I explain? I don't know!
She tried to respond in an eloquent fashion
"Pretend that your pen is a cup and pour into it your soul
but only let it out in tiny, undiluted drops.
The boy did not understand so he questioned her once more
She thought
"Make believe that the page is a baby's rosey cheek
and kiss it softly with only the most delicately chosen words."
Confusion continued to cloud the young boy
So she decided to give it one final try:
"You are a summer garden plot, a poem a flower bud
find an open space to plant a seed of thought
bury it in the soil naked and undeveloped
and give it your utmost care and contemplation
along with water and sunlight in preferential doses.
After a time a poem may begin to sprout
but it can often take longer than you expect
do not assume the poem to pop right up
and there are no guarantees
about what will result in the end
that seed may grow into an exotic rose
or an unforeseen dandelion
you never know how the sun will shift
or the how the wind will shape the land."

The boy thanked the teacher thinking he understood
and hurriedly outside he ran
straight to the wooden gardening shed
and grabbed his shovel, gloves and watering can.