Writing

I don’t seem to have a poetic word left in me.

Its disturbing for I thought I could find one

When the urge took me that way.

I’ve discovered there’s no point fighting it

After all if its not there, its not there.

I’ve looked at the blogs I follow

There’s wonderful verse about flowers, pots,

Landscapes and the brave folk who look to discover themselves.

There are pieces of prose I cannot but admire

But me there is in these recent days nothing is forth coming.

Writing goes like this.

Its like a drought of creative thought.

I have to sit and let the words come again.

I’m reminded of a cartoon I saw recently,

A man receives a box from Ikea

On the box is written “The Latest Blockbuster Novel”

Inside he finds the box is full of letters,

My mind is like that at present.

So the rest of you keep up the wonderful work

I look forward to reading your words

As I struggle to assemble mine.

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13 Responses to Writing

  1. It’ll come Michael. Love the Ikea Box.

  2. Well I think that was most of the things you said you thought others words werw, so maybe you were trying to hard! That said I know for sure I have written a similar post on my time. Hello from my hospital bed, the gallstones have finally brought me in!!

  3. Sadje says:

    It’s pretty good Michael.

  4. Lyn says:

    I don’t see a problem there at all, Michael 👓🙂

  5. KL Caley says:

    The muse is maybe having a nap, we all need one from time to time. Great post though, I loved the ikea imagery. KL ❤

  6. Oh Michael I do hope the muse returns to you, though I know how it can be. I look forward to the day something moves you. and you write again

  7. Your Muse is still there, lingering. Those letters will once again form words. xx

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