NO MUSE
I have no muse to prompt any new words
My imagination’s source is only my head
Inside my right brain, the crunch of gears
As nerve endings spit sharp darts of ideas
Dry wells of inspiration do cause me tears
Think for yourself, as some poet has said
And keep separate, the whey from curds
Unlike some, who see beauty all around
I am driven only by images in my mind
Raised up from depths by mental pump
Then out of the inkwell, words can jump
But empty phrases will land with a bump
Sometimes a busy brain can be very kind
With that final line, the verse is crowned
Say it how you see it, is excellent advice
Yet occasionally, there are droughts too
When a dry searing wind blows the sand
The cause of that, I may not understand
It erodes the gist of what I had planned
I know there are feelings other than blue
And a rush of inspired words will suffice