Tag Archives: Writer’s block

Nothing Left To Say

                                                             Zeekmystories While my muse runs around the house in bathrobe and curlers, I wonder when I will ever write another poem again? It happens, so they say, after years of inspiration,  all of a sudden I find myself with … Continue reading

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Only The Muse

Let me sleep until I write, ” My dreams are spun in you.” Comatose would be my choice if never more a verse burst from my loins. Barren in this wasteland, dried up floundering on the sand, don’t poke me … Continue reading

Posted in Poems | Tagged , , , | 8 Comments