Okay today I was going to write a poem about the Celtic Goddess Airmid but the words do not want to come to me. If I were the words I would not come to me I would think hey I am not going to visit that black whole I do not want to be sucked into that void.
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That black dog is back, in the corner is a huge Rottie , the words won’t come and it is driving me potty.If I was a waste bin I would be full of so much paper it would be a sin. Where are the words where have they flown why can’t I write where are my words, where have they gone!
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Why is he so huge why is he so mean he is the meanest Rottie I have ever seen. Lurking in the dark waiting for me, he has me fixed with his eyes and I am no longer free.
I don’t want to write this but I have no choice the words refuse to come he has stolen my voice! I am frightened to move frightened to think that bloody dog has pushed me to the brink.
I thought I could thrill you all with a new Celtic theme but the words will not come so Airmids tale will for now remain in my dream.
So for now I will survive his stare, that evil Rottie sitting there. Have you seen the size of his jaws or the length of claws on the end of his paws! Well there is not more I can say lets hope he will decide not to stay. I hope he goes soon because the words refuse to come until he goes away.
