Imagination

I dropped my pen – and now I’ve picked it up again!
But I put it in my pocket , where it rests now with my locket,
A little picture holding fast, to my memories of the past.
As my finger touches it, I think – I’ll write a bit!

So I get my pen once more, while I’m looking out the door,
The door to my heart, of which my memories are a part,
Part and parcel with the light which I need to make things right,
So the picture in my locket can rest safely in my pocket!

So who is kidding who, shall I tell it to you true?
There is no picture in my pocket – did you think there was a locket?
This rhyme was just a ruse, to spark the writer’s muse,
Imaginary scintillation giving way to exhalation -

One single breath in time, connected to my rhyme,
A rhyme that I can send to an imaginary end -
An end that I can bend - imagination is my friend -
Because I dropped my pen - and now I’ve picked it up again!