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.
What Rhymes with Stanza? 