The Limerick
There was a young man called Tom
Whose blog posts went on and on
He then had a shock
Suffering Blogger’s Block
He realised his thoughts had gone
The Conceit
Oh woe! Thousands of words are gone
Vanished as though a book erased
No longer on the tip of tongue or pen
Yet needed over and over
Always with nothing again
Imagery
Words should dance and flick and flutter
Tickling and caressing each other
Prompting what they need to convey
Instead they hide and stay away
The Tanka
I need words to write
Ideas to bring to life
Epic tales to tell
Or just thoughts to fill a gap
But instead I sit and wait
The Terza Rima
In front of the screen I patiently sit and wait
Tapping keys, scratching my head and deleting
Hoping from early evening until late
That my thoughts are more than fleeting
Instead those thoughts just come and go
How many brain cells are they eating?
Yet I want to write, I must, I know.
It’s the thinking that takes up the time
I allow my imagination freedom to grow
Could I put the words into a rhyme?
Create magnificence out of nothing?
(And is something not so great a crime?)
But still, eventually the words will reappear
And combined together, showcased here!
Random thoughts about my recent Blogger’s Block episode, just off the top of my head. Any excuse to post a Selfie! Even an old one!
The Mansionic Perspective 
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