It is just another day

But it does not feel the same

And now, my greatest fear

That misfortune is to blame


It started well before the dawn

As I sat down with my coffee

But the words I came to read

Were not there for me to see


Every day there is a morsel

Of humor or great wit

But five a.m. has gone by

And I cannot seem to find it


In my world of words

She is but a part

Yet she has always been

How my day would start


Now I pray that she is well

And I fight off the haunting sorrow

I pray her words will be there again

When I wake to greet tomorrow


21 Responses to “Missing”
  1. According to the Bible, even God took a rest! Maybe your muse needs one?

  2. beth says:

    and if it were my guess, i might think she fell asleep while typing, and worry for naught, but such a sweet poem

  3. Francisco Bravo Cabrera says:

    You are a consummate professional, you don’t need a muse as you have talent, talent which is the result of hard work, of trial and error, investigation and emotional investment. Great work my friend, truly artistic and masterful,
    All the best,

  4. jonicaggiano says:

    I have to agree with Francisco. You wrote this lovely poem about your missing muse. Lovely too. You are so filled with talent my friend. Sending you love, hugs and prayers. β€οΈπŸ€—πŸ˜˜πŸ™ Jonikins

  5. kristianw84 says:

    I hope your wish was granted and you woke up to her words.

  6. petespringerauthor says:

    There is no rhyme or reason why some days the words come easier than others.

  7. Jim Borden says:

    I think I know to whom you are referring πŸ™‚

    that’s what you get for waking up so early πŸ™‚

  8. Marlapaige says:

    This was beautiful

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