An idea: A poem 

I seize it, weigh it, turn it around 

Paint it in colours, feel its sound 

Find the night within, find the day 

The seed becomes a bud, then blooms away 

I hear the sea in its shell…the ocean’s swell 

It takes me unawares, then rings a bell 

I walk the streets tirelessly with its scent 

The idea is omnipresent, until restlessly I give vent 

write it down thirstily on paper 

And put an end to its prolonged caper