I made it! 30+ poems in 30 days for NaPoWriMo!!! Yay me!
I must admit
that I have been too indulgent with my muse,
treating her as if she were a queen,
demanding nothing.
Now she has become a spoiled brat,
petulant and contrary.
She will not rouse when summoned,
burrows under the covers and whines,
"I don't feel like it!"
I should have been more firm from the start;
now it's a battle of wills.
She ignores my taps and gentle shakes,
covers her ears to my reveille,
refuses to budge.
"Well, I'll just start writing without you!" I shriek.
She calls my bluff- "Just try."
