Thursday, 19 March 2009


When sitting to write a new blog
His mind became encased in fog
The eyes, they did glaze
And now, lost in a haze
Through ideas, he did make a hard slog

See, he's written of things and of stuff
And is finding it really quite tough
Each and every day
To have new things to say
Without picking a dud or a duff

Still there really must be plenty more
From his brain upon which he could draw
It all bubbles away
Churning day after day
There must be something in the store...

Nope, all I've got is stupid rhymes. Ah, well.


Anna Russell said...

From one running out of ideas blogger to another, I empathise.

But at least you managed to make a good blog out of it.

That Baldy Fella said...

Cheers, me dear! I've written about not having any ideas about 5 times now, though, so don't reckon I can get away with it anymore...

Belle said...

You are truly gifted. You could always run a limerick competition?

That Baldy Fella said...

Aw, shucks, you'll make me blush! Hmmm, limerick competition, you say - I like the sound of that....