The Sleeping Muse

When no words gush from off the pen’s felt tip,
why do I feel discouraged in this way?
I think I might just book a skiing trip
where snow is slick and fun to ride in sleigh.
snow #4 005

If that would wake my muse and start the flow
once more to roll new words onto the page,
then I would surely find a place to go
to feel as free as crows outside of cage.

But no! There’s not a place, where snow is deep.
No way to wake my muse although I try.
He snuggles tighter for long winter’s sleep.
It is my wish that no one hears me cry.
And so, downcast, I pull on cozy cap.
lean back into my chair and start to nap.

c Copyright, 2013, Freeda Baker Nichols

4 comments on “The Sleeping Muse

  1. patlaster says:

    Great blank verse!!!! But I always thought the Muse was a “she.” Who knew?


  2. Catherine Johnson says:

    Oh Freeda that is wonderful and what a shame I can’t borrow it 😉 I have nothing yet for today. I might have to be spontaneous.


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