To My Cheerleader
Some days my pen just cannot write,
That's right; the poet's lost for words,
The words I love have left my sight,
My website blank, it's too absurd.
A voice cheered out from an email,
Can mail messages fuel my pen?
It seems my pen has found its sail,
It wants to sail in verse again.
So pen writes in thanks to a friend,
To a friend who said 'just do it'
It seems I must write 'til year end,
So ends this verse, 'I will do it!'