We were sitting together yesterday again,
Mr. Writer’s Block and me,
Love is like a beautiful horizon I began,
Not really said he.
My pen swayed and I dropped it down,
As my words failed and no thoughts could be formed by my mind,
Mr. WB looked elated as I stared at him in despair,
He had again succeeded in blocking my word flow and tide.
You know it’s fine, said he,
I pay a visit to every writer now and then,
Why don’t you just welcome me and let me be?
I haven’t visited my blog in days, I say,
Do you realise despite trying to be regular how erratic I seem?
All thanks to you, if truth be said.
I looked at Mr. WB infuriated,
As he sat there sipping his tea,
I was sure he was smirking behind that cuppa.
He observed me for a while,
Glancing over his cup of tea,
I will leave in a few days said he,
Till then, there is not much you can do about it,
Can’t we be friends till I decide to leave?
I left the room in a huff,
Deciding to roam on the roof,
Looking for inspiration in the sky and the trees,
Cursing Mr. WB whole heartedly.
This was when the breeze whispered to me,
Hey, she said, fallen in love again? Heart been broken again?
or Feeling alone again?
None of these, I replied, just that Mr. WB is on a long visit it seems.
The breeze broke into a laugh,
I pouted at her angrily,
My book is soon to be out, I say,
I need to stay regular, you know.
She thought it through with lots of aahs and hmms,
She discussed with the trees and the skies,
At last she made her way to me and said,
Ever tried making Mr. WB your muse?
Give it a try you just might become allies.
I was lost in thought as I came down from the roof,
Mr. WB was still sipping his tea,
Will you be my muse? I ask,
That will be new, he laughs,
So this childish poem was the end result,
When Mr. WB became my muse.
The better part was we became bosom friends,
We ate and drank together,
And the best part was I saw him off later,
He seemed quite pleased as he said his goodbyes,
Next time he probably won’t visit without a prior call again,
But its Mr. WB and with him we can never be sure!
All Rights Reserved. Vanya Rajwar (VRa).
The Soul’s Urge©|2020