Drought of words

writer's block is a disease that affects every writer, similar to the pox, children must always have. ideas would come, topics abound, but the words to clothe them would desert me, i would spend hours on end with my biro but nothing, then i struggled to compose this poem, and the walls of the dam came tumbling down, and words were liberated.

Drought of words
For a great while,
Thoughts took great flight,
Like those migratory yearly flights birds do.
My writings fall flatly,
The crashed parts never found.
My muse never lands,
Dancing in my mind,
Never leaving something concrete,
It never ends like an Indian love dance,
With the pretty girl in her lovers arms,
It ends with a hide and seek game,
Leaving me desolate and bare,
Nothing good to deposit on my writing pad,
So I embarked on an odyssey,
To find my missing muse.
It was a stormy voyage,
Fought many hydra-headed monsters,
Lost a number of my crewmen,
To the vicissitudes of life
But I berthed in fine,
Saw my muse in a spring,
She gave me fresh words to drink,
Good songs to sing,
Now I set out on a fresh course,
To spread my gospel of words.