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.
Fired, but:
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 . . .
But no,
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
© 2013 Wendy Bourke
ha! This is clever and fun. I know the feeling!
ReplyDeleteditto! looks like you DID write a poem. ;)
ReplyDelete"scattered sparks on lusty breeze" -- you're ahead of me, because for quite a while now I've barely even had any scattered sparks!
Thanks for commenting, Jennifer and Janet. Some days I can't decide if the writing is getting easier or harder - or both.
ReplyDelete