untitled

For the Cramp

I have to try to write a verse
each word must make one sound
What tale am I to scribe this day
and still make the heart go round?
Birds sing sweet in leaves of trees,
the sun shines bright in sky.
But this does not move my soul,
a new take I need to try…
Moon glows soft in dark of night,
an owl hoots a song of fear
a grim scene of hour late,
of ghosts that haunt from far and near…
But still my soul does not yet quake
and still my heart is light
this quest to write a verse of words
takes will and it takes might!
But my mind aches from this chore
for plot and verse find not their place
my pen does not spill grief nor cheer
and I fear this task at end.
My pen may not yet have the skill
to crush a quest like this
So I will for now put down my pen
And live my life in sweet, sweet bliss.