usually I write a poem
off the bat
but alas to-day
I couldn't do that

none of the word combinations
I had in mind
would gel like
a twining bind

inspiration eluded
the nib of my quill
its ink
wouldn't freely spill

as a consequence
the page is short of a verse
none came along
to fill its purse

in the morrow
a poem might get writ
that's if I can get
hold of it

but for to-day
I'm bereft of a stanza
which would have been
a great bonanza