Just One of Those Times

 

 

Just one of those times

When I feel I should write

But there’s a problem here

For nothing is in sight.

 

Just one of those times

No topic on my mind,

There’s none I can find

None to which I am inclined.

 

Yet I am drawn to write

A poem of sorts,

If nothing comes soon

I’d be forced to abort.

 

Even all like now

As I type verse number four

There is no inspiration

But I’ll try some more.

Have patience I am told

Maybe something will unfold,

I am not warming to the task

Everything is cold.

 

This is verse number six

Still trying to get the right mix,

Really stretching my mind now

But can’t get out of this fix.

 

Any suggestion you can give

I’d readily welcome,

If it doesn’t come soon

You can bet I’ll be done.

 

Well it’s too late now

I am packing it up,

Writing without inspiration

Is certainly not my cup.

 

It was only recently

A good friend made a request

But I told her unless I am inspired

I cannot give my best.

 

“But you write well,” she said,

“It should be very easy for you.”

I reiterated, “Unless I am inspired

I cannot do what you require.”

 

That’s similar to right now;

I feel a need to write

But no matter how hard I try

Nothing comes out right.

So before I repeat myself

And bore you half to death

I’ll just repeat verse one

And wish you the best of health.

 

It’s just one of those times

When I feel I should write

But there’s a problem here

For nothing is in sight.

 

Stewart Russell © September 2017