Words from the Heart

The poet at work I cannot remember how I found the Poem-a-day challenge . It came, I think, in an email from one of the writing groups that email me regularly. It has changed everything I held true about myself and writing poems. For years, I have said I could not write a poem unless I was "inspired." No poems on demand, for me. I only worked through the Muse, who, thankfully has been my constant companion for the past fifty years. After entering, on a whim, the Poem-a-day (PAD) challenge, I humbly admit that I had put great limitations on the Muse. Limitations that have, it would appear, only served to limit me! Shame on me! Mia culpa! Robert Lee Brewer, the genius behind PAD, began his blog, Poetic Asides , in June of 2007. Since that time, he has shared wit and wisdom with fellow poets and readers, as well as, inspired others to write with great prompts. I have to say, it was his gracious and welcoming manner that gave me the courage to attempt the PAD for 2009. S...

I have sat here before, in this little chair beside the windows of the garden looking for inspiration. Almost always, the Muse meets me halfway and the words flow onto the screen. Yet, today, I feel empty of words, empty of ideas. Resolution: Never give up hope! (Never, say never!) Hope eternally! So, I look into the archives...the dusty pages of hand written scribblings, the faded pages of type from my old typewriter (yes, many of my first poems were typewritten, literally!). I find a few offerings, my New Year's gift to you all. NON-PRODUCTIVE Holding the pen, I strain to push thoughts onto the paper. My being is heavy with the memories of the past, thoughts for the future, and reflections on the duties due the present. The phrases that appear have no rhyme, no reason. Frustration and weariness push dreams away... the words are gone... I am empty. The mind would continue this madness, but the heart rules. Rest and quiet will fill the empty spaces. Sleep will bring inspiration...

Writers and artists will tell you that the Muse visits at the most unpredictable times. It is all too true. Most often, my Muse visits in the wee hours of morning before dog or human is up. Or, she comes wistfully whispering lines of poetry or prose as I am tooling down the highway with no place to stop. As a young student, writing was assigned an hour a day by the my teachers. The idea of Muse, or inspiration, or creativity somehow escaped their drive to "teach" us to write. I remember the exasperation one of my instructors had when after an hour of sitting with blank sheet and pen in hand, not so much as a scratch had been placed on the paper. "But Sister," I said, "I just don't feel inspired." You can imagine the response I got! Funny, all those years ago, I had been told I would never be a "real" writer, whatever that is. Fortunately for me, I had a mother who believed that if you put pen to paper linking words in a way that informs, ente...