Life, At Therisa's (April 18, 2016)

Just great

My talented muse

Has left me

A "Dear Writer" letter

Upon my pillows.

Telling me

She has ran away

With the Sprite

Next door

For parts unknown.

And I

Shouldn't be looking

For her return

Any time

Soon.

As if

My all seeing

Crystal ball

Is working.

Never mind

One of the cats

Got curious

And knocked it

From it perch

In my bedroom closet.

Guess

It got spooked

By seeing

Its reflection

In the ball.

Lucky me

It wasn't

A mirror.

Otherwise

Another seven years

Of bad luck

On top of

My already

Negative karma index.

Last time

We talked

Muse was pissed

About the Sprite

Being "an airhead".

Wanting nothing

To do

With her.

Guess

The Sprite dances

An amazing

Mattress mambo.

Sigh.

Still

My writer's block

Remains.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: An attempt to break my current writer's block, since last night. And yeah, I know, with an average of 2 poems/day, for April, I should jumping for joy. Call me, greedy. Now, where did I misplace my answering Golem? Should be, somewhere, in this organized Chaos, I call my apartment.