The most Inopportune Time

I paced this empty room
Quiet and alone
Burdened by the awful weight
Of weary writer's granite stone

Words danced beyond my tongue
Taunting, evading, troublesome
Random. Incoherent whispers
Of poems left undone

Madness touched the edge of my mind
I am aimless, refusing destination
I dream of being the Master Bard
Not tainted by Procrastination

I sought guidance and was fulfilled
Calliope was generous
My muse of muses led me to
The words that would make me famous

If only, in that moment
Had my hand held a pen
I wouldn't be here pacing
This empty room again