I'm sure you've sensed how thoughts drift by,
Like leaves upon a breeze.
Which twist and swirl as round they fly,
Forgotten soon with ease.

And often such unprompted memes,
Come formed with an idea.
Like wakeful yet full-storied dreams,
Established, crystal clear.

But for many that's the start and end,
The leaf so quickly gone.
Never again may muses send,
That breeze, same thought upon.

So make a habit of taking notes,
No matter how vague a thought.
And close when next you sense one floats,
Be sure it's firmly caught.

Then at least it's safe for when you feel,
The time is right to use it.
So if inspiration lends appeal,
You'll be glad you didn't lose it.

And then you simply choose the form,
Which renders it the best.
The one via which it feels the norm,
To respond at its behest.

For me that is a pleasing rhyme,
Quatrain it's sometimes called.
Where quickly I'll be lost in time,
In its frame of mind installed.

And it all starts with a doodle,
As I ruminate and think.
When a strange semantic stroodle,
Then enslaves my pen and ink.

And soon such humble scribbles,
Start to take on shape and form.
And from tasty little nibbles,
Rhyme starts cooking up a storm.

So do some doodling when you can,
Use words to paint and draw.
Begin with but the briefest plan,
But doodle I implore.

As proof I hope my doodles here,
You'll think are not too bad.
For all required no more a steer,
Than a passing thought I had.