Creativity – A poetic Philosophy

by Vicki Vespestad 

In the morning while awaking my mind begins baking: “Fresh Thought”!
Blending and sending ideas to be wrought.
A new quest to be sought.

Measure – mix – stir, at first it’s a blur.
The ingredients for the making are there for the taking.

Pull a book from the shelf, I can teach myself.
It’s no chore opening the door to the imagination.

From there launch a missile, and tracking its whistle wherever it lands,
Exploding ideas to create with the hands.

Set a plan, switch on the fan,
Circulate the air, tie back the hair.

Tune in, turn on, I won’t be a pawn.
I’ll play my own game of chess, spread out, make a mess.

Paper, scissors, glue, I like what I do.
And always insist on my own special twist.

I can stand proud apart from the crowd,
Blazing my path foundationed on Math.

So I’ll plow virgin field, it’ll double my yield.
I’ve a hunger to feed, where’s the want and the need?


Pull from the mud, nurture the bud,
Bring it to bloom, find the time and the room,
To bring into being what the mind is seeing.

I’ll do it for health and spiritual wealth,
‘Cause the labor I feel can help hurt to heal.

So I’ll make ideas happen, I’ll prove them to work,
I’ll work hard at play, play hard at work.

I’ll follow my heart, I’ll chart my own course,
I’ll try putting the cart in front of the horse.

Sometimes I falter, take horse by the halter,
It’s back to the start for a change of some part.

But spoil nothing in haste, there’s no time to waste.
So let’s cut through the crust, blow away the dust.
You see, creating is a lust to me.

When task is achieved, it’s hard to believe,
The satisfaction that’s won, along with the fun.

And I must confess, I love success,
And winning the race reflects on my face.

But you too can enjoy the view,
Part of the prize is the look in your eyes.