Peaches and Poems

Not really sure what it’s all about Try as I may, nothing comes out It will return; I haven’t a doubt In the meantime, I’ll give out a shout Working a lot on the humble abode Fixing up potholes out on the road Once gushing words, to a trickle I’ve slowed One day again, the muse will explode Seems when I’m tired, needing the bed Nothing much rattles inside my head And when it does, it’s better not said So I’ve spent my time rowing instead Sorry to be such a stranger these days Just don’t seem able to find the right phrase Likely I’m just going through a dry phase All in good time, lift hands in praise Just when it seems everything’s breezin’ In comes a front; fruit trees are freezin’ The Good Book says, there’s always a reason Peaches and poems, each have their season