Ideas

 Staring at the sunshine
Outside her bedroom window,
The writer waits
For ideas 
To be dropped on her doorstep.

Summer is on its way.
The trees have leafed out
And the flowers bloom.
Ideas await
The one who wants
To pen them to the page.

She sits at her desk
Deep in thought,
Waiting for the moment
When the words flow from her pen.

Ideas come and go,
But no one knows
When the right time 
To start writing is.