I showed up, but not my muse –
pen and paper, just a ruse.
What to do when words don’t come,
sit and stare, is all I’ve done.
Thoughts skip in then disappear,
no ideas, nothing here
but sun beams beaming
through the trees,
chirping birds,
a gentle breeze
and me just sitting,
waiting for the muse,
pen and paper
all a ruse.
©2018 Sharron R. McMillan
hernibs 