When I’m poetically motivated, I:

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Ride the chariots of clouds in the sky

To net elusive nouns

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Chase brilliantly golden, crisp, yet delicate autumn leaves
To entrap those adjectives

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Trip the light fantastic with high winds to find 
Some rare personification

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 Sizzle and frizzle with my sausages searching
For some bee-buzzing onomatopoeia 

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Move mountains and plough through dictionaries 
To massage in those metaphors

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Cook curious cakes and even pickle putrid pears 
To entrap my appetizing alliteration

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Scour the world, beat the bushes, capture and kill - - 
Yes, all this for those vanishing verbs

 

Swiftly and lightly ride on those rumbling tumbling waves 
To arrest an evasive adverb

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Then I’ll tango a mango, and tussle a muscle
To access assonance

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But to get my rhythm
I’ll dance, hum, sing or simply whistle – 

Well, doesn't everyone?