Poem -
Writer's Bane
I once knew
Inspiration long ago
When flowers
Bloomed in-furrow row
Fur and feathers
Sat along with me,
Resting under the
Willow tree
Pen and parchment
Poised to write,
I just couldn't bring
Words to light
Pounding words
Refused to reign
Stuck inside a
Obstructed brain.
Chartreuse held
a breath,
Lingering, till spring
Found death
Summer came
Warm and bright
But words never
Seemed quite right
Autumn came and
Stayed a spell,
Wishing a fond
Summer farewell
Winter cold and
Foreboding
Stilled the waters
Eroding
Trapped under
Shards of ice
Paying an
Ignoble price
Caught in time
Clear as glass,
notions long
since pass
Β
Support CosmoFunnel.com
You can help support the upkeep of CosmoFunnel.com via PayPal.
Comments
I love the metophore of the cold representing the dark void in the mindΒ
it was a simple tread with a complexity thatβs not hard to get
great peice
thank you for taking the time to read and comment the support is greatly appreciated
Superbly expressed, Poetess!
thank you Ian. this one I feel isn't one of my best attempts.
I think you're being too hard on yourself. You've brilliantly utilised the seasons to mirror the long frustration that I think everyone can relate to. Plus it flows terrifically. Maybe reading it another day, you'll appreciate it more, which is often the case with me and my own poems.
thank you Ian. we are always our own worst critics.
Brilliantly written! I have missed your ink my friend, pure talent.
thank you Simon