1 Maray Larson There my lady be with madness in head. She still denying her late lover is dead. The maids say she will do nothin’ but wait, For him to stroll up to the old estate. All her children have left her here to rot. The twelve bastards claim they “merely forgot.” A beauty my lady was long ago. But like the spring she is covered by snows. Storms of abuse, affairs, grief, and love lost. She cries, “I want Hugh back at any cost.” I can’t keep this secret any further. I committed Hugh’s most deadly murder! Father, this was the tale I had to tell. Of when true love put me under its spell. Olivia Christensen Pen to the page, yet words do not flow out. My head, once filled with creativity, is now barren and desolate. I ponder and scour for a thought, but it feels as if my mind has turned off. Concentrate on and contemplate the works of other, much better, poets than you. Suddenly, inspiration strikes my brain. Sparks fly and engender poetic reign. Once again, I bring the pen to the page. Mindless, empty, there is no helping me. This blank sheet stares back and mocks me. Hopefully, artistry shall appear again, then words should soon come out, no doubt. uninspired a servant s betrayal
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