We writers write. That's what we do.
When words just flow and when they're few.
Like addicts who can't help themselves,
we're driven and can't stop.

On laptops or with pad and pen,
we transcribe what we hear within.
The muses speak and we obey.
That's jus the way it is.

But muses can be mute sometimes.
That's when the poet's short on rhymes
That's when the one who grinds out prose
finds thorns instead of flowers.

But when that's true, we do not pout.
We write until mute muses shout.
We click our keys and push our pens
in spite of how we feel.

It's kind of like our need to breathe.
Or when we're cut (guess what?), we bleed.
We have to write. We have no choice.
That's just what writers do.

Copyright 2006 by Greg Asimakoupoulos, Mercer Island, Washington
The Partial Observer (Rhymes and Reasons)

More poetry by the Pastor/Poet

With thanks to Songs of Praise
for the music playing at Peggie's Place!
This original composition is entitled, "Jesus, You're the Song that I Sing."