Intro:Imagine a day for a poet without a ghost of inspiration..mind and paper blank ,abandoned by imagination ..This poem conveys the utterly helpless state of a poet in a poet's block boggled by a stifling sense of loss..But every dark storm has a fairly lighted rainbow awaiting you...

Crumpled papers all over,
Ruffled mess of a hair,
With no scope for hope,
I did nothing but mope.

Reclined I sat,
Withered and dry,
And as dark clouds loomed,
A menacing gloom doomed,

For the realisation hit me,
That I was abandoned,
Paper no more by ink adored,
Words I could no more afford,

Trickling down my face,
A tiny droplet tickled,
Upwards I glanced,
Only to be entranced.

Showered watery crystals,
In millions and scattered,
Jiggling and juggling,
Pitter patter,well tuning.

Cluster of tiny ripples,
Like galaxies infinite,
Assuming a prism hued,
Reflected the surrounding imbued,

The nexus of crystals,
Warped the ripples,
Like paints mingling,
Became it an art astounding,

Eyes wide open,
Colour flurried in waves,
My mind Flooded I saw,
With words the way to draw.

Papers back in notebook,
And with frantic flow of ink,
Drew I with imagination ,
The result of my exploration.

Hail such miracle,
In commonplace I find,
What could get me ignited,
And with it I'm reunited.

No more crumpled papers,
None of Ruffled messy hair,
With full scope for hope,
I no more mope.

..........The End..........

Reader's note: Hehe ..as dramatic as it is..the source of inspiration was as simple as a rainy day n the resultant ripples..so I wished to share this little experience of mine with everyone..