At times, when the sun is at its highest,

My writing reaches a wall,

Reaches the lowest point,

And all of my creativity is sucked out

It’s as if all the sweat I’ve Iost

Holds all of my abilities,

Holds all my thoughts

The best answer I have found,

Lies in a quiet stream,

Surrounded by the tallest of trees

The only sounds back there,

Come from lazy birds,

Who can’t be bothered with full songs

Everything back there is slower,

And the shade shields me from the heat

A wade in the stream,

Maybe a little wine,

And just like that,

Refreshed, revived and rejuvenated

Cooled off and once again,

Filled with thoughts,

And without warning,

The writing comes back

And then all in the world,

Is in sync

Everything falls right back to perfect,

Everything is right, again

Dicky J Loweman 2015 ©




  1. Hi, Dicky! Thanks for the follow. I really like your writing style, earthy, visual and straightforward–you communicate so clearly the way you see the world. Nice work!

    Liked by 1 person

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