Today, it seems that I am held
in the grip
of a Vanishing Poetry Spell.
The words are there, and then, I swear,
they vanish - poof - into thin air:
scattered sparks on lusty breeze
snuffed by a gusty squall brain freeze.
stuck in the mire -
blank . . .
though, strangely, still inspired.
(If only words were not required.)
If only wishing made it so
and summoned forth some smooth lingo . . .
the words have flicked away.
And thus, I write: No Poem Today.
note: published: Verse Afire (Ontario Poetry Society) Jan.-Apr. 2015 Edition.
photo: No Poem Today - W. Bourke