For you I write no more song
Nor will I write a verse.
The silence of my creativity
seems to be getting worse.
I say quietly to myself
it will come back once more.
I must be patient with my heart
and revert to how I was before.
And how was that? I can't recall.
Too many days have passed.
Will I write again a poem or song
or will I have written my last?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Know how you feel Edwina, I often wonder where my next write is coming from, or if it will come at all. Good one, well penned.