Rummaging through old thoughts,

To find a new idea I can use.

But they are scarce, hard to find;

Guess I'll have to call on my old muse.

Where are they hiding, I wondered out loud.

Within ear shot of my sleeping muse.

She never blinked an eye, this sleepy gal.

I have called on her so often, sleep she can use.

Will have to call it a day

And put my quill away for now.

Leaving an empty page on life,

With nothing to contribute, a no show.