Poetic Frustration
I drum my fingers dreaming of poetic notions as is my bent,
But for the life of me, I can think of nothing on which to vent!
I fervently hope my well of imagination will never run dry.
Surely some creative masterpiece will come to me by and by!
My thesaurus and dictionary stand by to give me a hand,
And the mystifying computer is at my fingertips on demand,
Each to provide ready aid if I can think of anything,
But its up to me to create a linguistic and poetic string.
Maybe I could write something about my inscrutable cat,
Yet come to think of it, I've already written about that.
Maybe a profound versification about the world situation,
But that needs lots of research and that causes some hesitation.
Of course there's always the topic of romance and love,
But I must admit I'm not too well versed on matters thereof.
God's Creation is always a timely theme on which to reflect,
Yet with all its wonders I doubt I could render it proper respect.
It seems to me as I daily stroll about the neighborhood,
That I could manage to come up with something good.
Lord, won't you smite me with a streak of inspiration,
And relieve me of my desperate plight and utter frustration?
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
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