Pat Adams Poet Rhyme

The Fallen Muse

It was obvious, his muse fell
His mind was a muddled mess
Killed or wounded, he couldn't tell
The emptiness caused him much stress

In the interim, he searches
For a topic that seems just right
An Epiphany that lurches
To light his dark poetic night!

Worn out by this torturing test
Unable to escape this trap
He resorts to what he doe's best
He eats a bit and takes a nap!

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Michelle Faulkner January 19, 2020 at 2:43 PM That's my January so far - hopefully I'll jump-start something soon :) Pat Adams January 20, 2020 at 10:16 AM I heard that. In KY right now, it's 18 degrees and snowing! What an oogie mess!.............80)

Lindsay Laurie January 16, 2020 at 8:31 PM Crikey PAT … he's the ghost of me! Thanks Mate - Lindsay Pat Adams January 17, 2020 at 7:26 AM Me too! HUh.........go figure!.........80)

Gershon Wolf January 15, 2020 at 9:16 PM You must know me, Pat. Exactly my solution to the problem. (Some solution, eh?!) Enjoyed this one. Like looking in the mirror. :) Cheers, Gershon Pat Adams January 16, 2020 at 3:45 PM Yeah well, you do what you know I guess! Thanks for commenting Gershon..............80)