Gone fishing for Sergeon.....quick edit by billy

[billy]

The fruit is dry, where is the juice? Poet's blood never dried this fast!
The river is sand, where is the flow? Rains of rhyme, storm of the past.
The hall is bare, where are the souls? No one will speak, or no one dare.
The page is blank, where are the words? Muse of Mercy, have a care.
The pen is still, where is the hand? Not a jot! The brave have gone!
Poets sleep, the night is long, the dreams are dull, I am alone.

For serge. I will go out in the midday sun and meet you...as you have nothing else to do.
tectak
2013

no wonder you'e alone after this poem

just kidding. it feels like a shout in the dark .
the only part that didn't work for me is

muse of mercy.
i do like most of lines, the last particularly. it feels like a need or connection is missing with like minded people/poets.

gone and alone don't rhyme....do they
thanks for the read tom, or should i say 'the lament'