Drought

Another slow Writing day I don't know What to say I long to go Into the fields I've words to sow And tales to tell But nothing grows That I can find No water flows The river's dried So I guess, instead I'll stay inside

My Muse

My muse, my inspiration Is a restless soul Always on the move So nimble, so fast Never in the place I saw it last I spend so long trying to find it That by the time I do the moment's past   In response to the Word of the Day prompt: vagabond

Writer’s Curse

Empty notebook Pen in hand Thinking hard But the river's dammed Spent all day Trying to write But nothing's flowing No words in sight Put down the notebook Put down the pen I'll get some sleep Then try again Head hits the pillow Off goes the light Now come the words Piercingly bright Prick like [...]