When I sit down at my desk and nothing comes to write
My brain begins to freeze, my mind goes into flight
The doubting Thomas in my head pipes up unhelpfully
Stop playing at this writing game, let’s go back to sleep

It’s tempting to comply, as the blank page starts to mock
An hour dissolves to nothing but the ticking of the clock
Until my fingers find the keyboard, and tentatively type
A command(ing) form of title, that rids me of my gripe

Words turn to ideas as inspiration takes a hold
Each line another puzzle piece as the story begins to unfold
It’s clunky and unpolished but also very nearly done
That’s one point for the muse and for resistance none

Some days it comes fast and some days it comes slow
The days that I most fear are the ones that have no flow
But the key to creativity in any form of art
Is all in the beginning, it’s the only place to start

Lacking inspiration for this week’s Sunday rhyme time, but it seems the lack in itself can inspire a few rhymes.