23-31 – Blank

A blank space here
for all the stories that never were.
A moment of silence
for those not lost but never found.
Drops in a sea of nothing-sound.
A white expanse for words unwritten,
poems unspoken
An audience’s hush still unbroken
Songs unsung and strings unstrung
and threads unspun to literary gold.

A blank space here
for stories that might be
when inspiration floods
and grows into a sea
When flows of random thought
return a great idea.
A moment’s all it takes to spring
And there’s a song for you to sing
And there’s a poem for me to pen
So nine still days will not be ten.