---

It’s been a dry summer,

no word play to spare.

What little comes forth

dissipates in the air. 

---

Pen poised above paper,

ink eagerly flows.

A doodle emerges;

no poems or prose.

---

A rhyme – ‘haps a reason – 

to brighten my day? 

But no, merely dust

on my laptop’s display. 

---

Perhaps chalk on the sidewalk

if not paper or screen.

but when the dust settles,

not a word to be seen. 

---

I’d settle for tropes

or cliches worn and frayed.

word choices so bad I 

must rhyme “marmalade.”

---

I’ll spare you, dear reader,

‘til rains settle in, when

words fall from the sky

in a glorious din. 

---

When parched brain receptors

rehydrate and breathe,

I’ll come waxing poetic, 

my soul on my sleeve.