I Knew Not What To Write Poem by Melody Thaila Kuku

I sat still,
Under the soothing shade of the crooked tree
By the sensual Lagoon front.
I picked a pen,
But the Muse was gone,
Leaving my itching palm stranded in the midst of tangled ideas,
My incantation of rhymes,
She ignored,
I left a blemish of chaotic word sacrifice,
On an astonished paper,
That glared angrily at me,
Yet she turned not to me.
So for the first, Last time,
I knew not what to write.