Today I unexpectedly found myself writing a poem.
Over the last few weeks I've been plugging away at Gerry, my kid's story about an orphaned giant. Each day I've become a little more immersed in Gerry's world and things are flowing nicely. Today, however, I opened my notebook to where I left off Gerry last night, tapped the page a few times with my pen, then leafed ahead a dozen pages to a blank sheet.
I wrote these words:
Llewellyn never smiled again
And then the first three verses of a poem bled out of my pen onto the paper. I'm heading back to my notebook now.