Odd thoughts are milling round inside my head
As I seek something needing to be said
Because I’m in my morning writing mode
And searching for some scene or episode:
Perhaps some recent happening to relate
Or some conundrum I might contemplate
Or an old theme I should revisit now
Unfurrowing at last my wrinkled brow.
Turn where I may, no subject suitable
Appears that might have grown beautiful
If rendered carefully in well-wrought verse,
But this my Muse refuses to disburse.
No help for it, no easing of my sorrow,
But count on this: I shall be back tomorrow.