The Puffy Ink'd Unicorn

The Puffy Ink'd Unicorn

It was another rainy day
filled with gloom and dark dismay.
In a stupor, my mind wandered
unaware of time, now squandered.

Before me lay a pure white page
upon which I planned to engage
in flights of poetic discourse;
a scintillating tour de force.

I sat there, staring. It stared back
unblemished, not a sign of black
or any mark to indicate
what inspiration lay in wait.

I could not stand it anymore.
“You will not mock me!” thus I swore.
Pen in hand, I scrawled some doodles
which looked like a nest of noodles.

I shrank before such blasphemy
as I stared at my pen’s debris …
but then, I saw one inscribed line.
Was this a message wrought divine?

Such a familiar shape it bore,
perhaps a horse … or something more?
Upon its head … was that a horn?
It was a big, fat unicorn!

Puffy in shape, like a balloon,
a character from a cartoon,
and yet I felt it spoke to me:
“Please, use your words to set me free!”

It was polite, I have to say
so how could I turn it away?
I grabbed my pen, prepared to write,
and send this unicorn in flight!

I closed my eyes. An image came
and, though I thought that it was lame,
the unicorn, in my mind’s eye,
leapt from the page, began to fly!

Like Dorothy in the Land of Oz
I had to stop, to take a pause,
as color bled into the scene
just like I’d seen upon the screen.

I saw pink clouds piled like whipped cream;
a lemonade-filled sparkling stream;
striped candy-canes grew from the ground
as unicorns played all around.

The houses, made of gingerbread,
lined winding gum-drop roads which led
under a rainbow, arching bright,
in this strange land that had no night.

My unicorn began to change,
its shape and color rearrange,
until it looked just like the rest.
Of course, I thought it looked the best.

And then I heard laughter begin
as my creation joined right in
as though it found its family.
I shook my head. “Too much for me!”

I opened up my bleary eyes;
gone were the clouds that filled the skies
with sugar coated imagery.
I was back in reality.

The page, I saw, was nothing more
than random lines and, as before,
there was no message there for me,
no unicorn making its plea.

I wadded up the paper mess
feeling some sadness, I confess,
and threw it in the rubbish bin.
“I think it's time to try again."

Somewhere in another plane,
or in another writer’s brain,
a puffy ink drawn unicorn
is laughing as it is reborn.

An entry for the Inaugural Round of "The Pink Fluffy Unicorn Contest" 
Prompt: Write the best poem possible about Pink Fluffy Unicorns
Line limit: 100
Line Count: 72
Form: Structured (Quatrains}

Written for my guy, Christopher Roy Denton