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When the Well Runs Dry

Sometimes the well runs dry The tear fails to repeat My muse refuses to try I throw up my hands in defeat My inertia a mystery to me I cannot find a word This sudden urge to flee The Poetry Soup herd A white page stares back The keyboard is locked up My mind is totally black I still have my coffee cup Fourteen lines, for goodness sake, Do not an acceptable sonnet make! June 11, 2021

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Gershon Wolf

Date: 6/11/2021 1:55:00 PM

In your case, Milt, I predict a 'power outage' of less than three winks, two blinks, a long shoulder shrug, and one glorious summer's walk. Smiles, Gershon

L Milton Hankins
Date: 6/11/2021 2:15:00 PM

Ah, Gershon, it does happen now and then. Being in retirement, I love nothing more than writing poetry...and snacking. Sometimes, however, there isn't anything up there!

Demetrios Trifiatis

Date: 6/11/2021 1:31:00 PM

We all have been through such frustrating moments, my dearest friend, L MILTON. I am certain though that it isn't Muse's fault but ours, since we fail to listen to her whispers of inspiration. A didactic poem well expressed, a lesson to learn. Blessings.

L Milton Hankins
Date: 6/11/2021 2:16:00 PM

Thanks so much, Demetrios, my friend. I just keep pressing forward, though. Thanks so much for your encouragement, too. Your comments always mean a lot to me.

Rico Leffanta

Date: 6/11/2021 11:25:00 AM

Inkwell?

L Milton Hankins
Date: 6/11/2021 11:59:00 AM

Huh? I don't own an inkwell. I used to write by hand...many years ago. Now, I'm strictly computer. It's all about production these days, you know? (chuckle)

Caren Krutsinger

Date: 6/11/2021 11:20:00 AM

Funny to me that I had to read the entire thing before I realized it was a sonnet. I am slipping.

L Milton Hankins
Date: 6/11/2021 11:58:00 AM

No, you're not. It was a lousy sonnet, which is what I was trying to point out...poorly!