Provenance.
                              There is nothing more daunting than
                                    that first line of a book one is
                                         contemplating to write.
                             There are no lay-by margins, no marks
                               of delineation, no direction pointers,
                          no numerical reminders and no stop signs.
                             There are no en route filling stations
                              where one can pull over to replenish
                                the reservoir with fuel for thought.
                              There are no off-ramps, nothing but
                            straight monotonous repetitious vistas
                                  with a vanishing point mirage.
                             There are no Tachographs to break
                              the journey and give deluded eyes  
                                      ample time to rejuvenate.
                                     There are no signed posts
                                 no wayside images to entertain
                               or enlighten and no SOS cubicles.
                         There are no flashing lights of inspiration
                            and imagination is as intermittent as
                            windscreen wipers in undecided rain.
                            There are no detours one can take in
                             order to avoid the writers blockades
                        which occur unannounced and frequently.
                           There are no alternative routes or GPS
                         lady to rectify an incorrect decision one
                        might have made in the haze of brain fog.
                         There are no serendipitous or intuitive
                                encounters en passant and no
                                  prompt thesaurus lexicons.
                         There are no Peage girls to turn over
                       your next leaf so don't expect them to
                       raise the barrier that is holding you back.
                       There are no soft shoulders to rely on, no
                      roundabouts or rear view mirrors because
                   nobody's got your back, it's a solitary passage.
                     There are no cul-de-sacs but in the event
                      of finding yourself trapped and facing  
                      the wrong way, then read the next verse.              
                           There are no excuses for not having
                       made sufficient research before venturing
                       forth on a journey without a destination.