There is poetry in the air and everywhere even in a stringy hair,
But it has to be in rhythm and rhyme then everyone can share.
This I'd been trying to do in spite of many obstacles in the way,
My heart was filled with desire but my thoughts they always stray.
I saw them in the sun the moon and all the stars up in the sky,
I tried to put it in writing but I could not though I knew not why.
Then I saw the majestic mountains with mysteries to be told,
Their story would remain hidden for my heart was unable to unfold.
The forest, rivers and the lakes their beauty waits to be unveiled,
But tried as I did to put these into words but it was to little avail.
The oceans wide and sea so deep with many stories to disclose,
Much to write it should be a breeze but I just could not compose.
I felt hunger I felt pain and many other feelings to be explained,
Easy enough to say it in rhyme but all poetic ideas I was drained.
And the little spider sitting on a rose I'm sure he had a plot to tell,
But my mind remained in a blur empty and all aspirations expelled.
Why other poets are so articulate and wrote poetry with such ease,
Yet when I write, creativity evaporates and all my thoughts would freeze.
‘Tis clear that I am less gifted with the skill other poets be blessed,
But with lots and lots of trying perhaps my flaws can be addressed.