He came in the night, a second story thief
Who robbed me blind as I slept.
He stole all my thoughts till nought was left.
Only when he'd gotten all of value did he leave.
So here I sit, fingers at ready and keyboard at hand,
Searching in an empty head for something to write.
But I now realize a cat burglar took my ideas last night.
And left in their stead only rubbish and junk.
I’m sorry, my friends who’ve come to visit.
The Muse tried her best, but in vain.
As she left, she announced, “I can’t work in a garret
that’s empty. You’re the victim of a burglarized brain.
lol. a fun play at writers cramp...massage i a bit with some fun today...and i bet your muse will find you...smiles.
ReplyDeleteMusic. Put on your headphones and listen to your iPod - browse your music library until you find that one piece that says "This is how I feel today" - and use THAT to heklp you find your muse.
ReplyDeleteWhat a creative word play on your missing muse. :)
ReplyDeleteMaybe you should take a break,
ReplyDeleteThere is no pressure here,
Have a 'blogcation',
And find some salvation,
Then write from your heart something dear.
;-)
(oh, gawd, that sounded corny!)
Brian: Massage of any kind would probably work!
ReplyDeleteLou: Good idea.
Cowboy: Well, a technique that often works when I can find nothing to write about is to write about finding nothing to write about. ;-)
00dozo: Hmmm, I'm seeing a Hallmark card for bloggers here. (wink, wink)