Dear Diary,
Rustling in the fringes
That Thought
A flash of indiscriminate color,
A glimpse of the quirk of a mocking smile,
Then stillness
Opening out and spreading
Silence seeping in, then saturating.
That Thought
Nowhere to be seen,
Or heard
But I feel it,
Pulsating,
Breathing
Blending with the surrounding scenery.
Time slows
The Thought hides
and I wait, poised and expectant
for Inspiration to leap and strike.
Dear Diary .... by Kellianne Sweeney 
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