A Poets Dilemma

Your pen is poised, eager to create The paper lays ready, it can’t wait Searching your mind for inspiration Emotion soars with anticipation… Looking around, you search for a spark You hear the sweet singing of a lark Out your window, squirrels are playing And leaves flutter on branches swaying… The smell of coffee, a breakfast scone An urge to write like you’ve never known As you sit quietly in your soft chair There must be inspiration somewhere… Coffees gone, and no more muffin Alas, I’ll admit… “I got nothin’”