This Poem was Submitted By: Irene E Fraley On Date: 2001-11-15 20:22:12 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Writer's Block

This little death stole soft into the mind without a sound. A placid, rolling stream in woodland hills, it settled in to find the hidden ways, to steal the dream. Moving softly into crack and niche it seeped within and cruelly leeched the will removed the wonder, sapped the inner pitch and left the fire darkly banked and still.  Words cascaded from the heights to hide within the darkest depths, lie unrefined. No more accessible, they there abide as spirit flades to raw pain, ill defined. The hunger roars within for fire to light creation deep within my  mind tonight.

Copyright © November 2001 Irene E Fraley


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