September 7th

It was all mine for the taking

I was getting over the hill

But now my dream is shaking

And my words are standing still

It was a premature celebration

I was, too early, back slapping

I’m now missing my dedication

I’ve been caught out napping

It was all moving swiftly along

And my catalogue began to grow

But somewhere it all went wrong

Now my words are unable to flow

It was filling me with satisfaction

My hard work was beginning to pay

But now I’d like a challenge retraction

As I run out of things to say

It was all turning into my ritual

Something I’d do, whatever

But it been recently less habitual

I’m now not feeling as clever

But even if there’s a tiny chance

For words to flow again

I’d set back into that stance

And make my hills flat again