Writers Block

Writers Block
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Writers block, oh my writers block
What to say, what to right
Oh look there a bird in flight
Gee see that bug on the floor
Writers block, oh my writers block
What a beautiful day the sun is warm with just a few clouds in the sky
Life is teeming around me, but no words are in my head
Ah the beauty of these trees who stands tall and give shade to me
But writer’s block still clings to me, how can a poem come from me
Where is the inspiration, oh look at the sky so blue, azure blue to be sure?
Gee, it’s the little things that I take for granted, perhaps my poem
Is that my writer’s block is that I have not seen the value of what abounds around me?
Instead of trying to force words that are not there, maybe if I let my mind run free- and see the little things in a poetic verse
Oh birds in the azure sky
Above the trees so tall
Playing in the warmth of the sun
As the lazy clouds float by
Meanwhile on the ground little bugs scoot by
The beauty of my life is the little things that mean so much
Like goes by so fast, and we miss so much
Take a breath and see the things that really count
The little things that mean so much
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Gee writers block, writers block
What can I write, what verse can come from me
Oh well maybe I’ll just lay here in the warm sun and maybe it will come some other day!
Guildford H Windley
July 8, 2020
Dedicated to my friend Judith Johnston