Samuel, whatever happened when… (Fun Poem)

Each time I read this tale my friend
I can’t help wondering what happened when,
once inspired to write these images,
having been interrupted,
your memory went into a blank!

Oh Bastet, what can I say
it was such a glorious day…
Though ill I had this awesome image
and it was more than 300 lines!
Yet that idiot from Porlock came
to sell some encyclopedias just then …
My muse shouted; “Go away!”
but I felt it would be just too rude …
I indulged him for just half an hour …
before sending him on his way.
I returned then to my pen and ink
I re-read what I had just written. …

Alas, my muse offended,
refused to answer then my call,
no words nor phrases came again that day
nor did I find those words again,
to tell the tale of Xanadu …
Of the ice caves not a line nor rhyme,
my poem was gone
never to return to me.
From that time to now I’ll tell you this,
no longer do I interrupt my writing bliss
I ignore anyone who knocks
upon my door …
and I hate Porlock town!


Written for Poetry Promt 3, We drink Because We’re Poets

Why Write – Free Verse

my Porlock-lover
frowns and mutters
each time he sees me
making love
with my muse …
the words that flow
like honey-sweet sap
across my lap…top
turn him green-eyed …
though he doesn’t
that it’s jealousy
that prompts his
he insists that the problem is
my obsession ..
why write
he … says
vicarious are the sensations
of poetry
and prose
just think,
no one will even know
who you are
once your blog is gone…
all true, still
though he could be right…
does it matter?
do I write for fame, fortune or glory?
why write, or better
why blog?
well surely,
I’m not looking for a reader!
of one thing
there is no doubt
my passion
or obsession
keeps me writing-bound.
and you,
who read this verse
give my muse the wings
he needs
to keep me writing on!