Elusive Poem

I sit on the couch, waiting for a poem to emerge from the emptiness filling my head. I gaze at the two armchairs sitting across from me, So proper and upright, poised in expectancy of a poem landing in their laps any minute now. Ready to decipher and ponder and dissect. The fire in the woodburner glows brighter, Seeming to lean forward in anticipation Of a poem bursting forth That it can devour and send on its way up the pipe to the outside world. The couch cushions me in comfort Encouraging my poetic muse to produce Something, anything………………… Nothing……… The cat slowly uncurls itself from the rug. Stretches once and strides over to join me on the couch. Sitting beside me, he leans over to peak at the page To examine what has happened so far. Seeing nothing, he puts first one paw, then another onto my lap, testing the waters of my patience for a visit and a cuddle. Sensing victory, he proceeds to fill my lap with warm fur and purring. I guess a poem can wait……