Its four in the afternoon,
I’m sitting with pen in hand
waiting patiently for
my imagination to break through
but it seems to be held back
behind a closed door.
My mind and my pen
want it to find the handle
open the door and come in.
However, it seems hesitant,
why I don’t know.
My thoughts are wandering
in different directions
and not on a steady course.
Maybe that is why
my imagination can’t get in.
26 March 2011
David Harris
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-imagination-18/
