Writers Block

she weathered words that fell upon
a quiet earth, a ripened dawn
she soothed the spirits, quelled the beast
that hovered hungry for the feast
of silence, stillness, quiet mirth
of taking that which she held first

a time for poetry and verse
she and the universe conversed
"Well give me beauty, heal my sight,
protect me from that monster's might"

and words and words like rippled glass
did moor the vessle she rode fast
into the twilight where upon
she struggled quietly till dawn

now pages, pages at her breast
she'd wrote the tale that told the rest
of how to quell a noisy foe
and find the words that we all know
to satisfy the earthly urge
to recreate, the beast now purged.