Ode to Writerr's Block

I've discovered a (another) wonderful way of wasting time: the Sonnet Generator. You feed in certain words, and bingo! A sonnet appears! This is mine, written entirely by the generator (with a few choice words supplied by me).

   ODE TO WRITER'S BLOCK     

My writers block, you inspire me to write.
I hate the way you pounce, surprise and creep,
Invading my mind day and through the night,
Always dreaming about the block short sleep.

Let me compare you to a library?
You are more frustrate and more disable.
Snow chills the berries of January,
And wintertime has the lead pier table.

How do I hate you? Let me count the ways.
I hate your frustrating and unhappy.
How your infuriating fills my days!
My hate for you is the pop white crappie.

Now I must away with an impede heart,
Remember my top words whilst we're apart


Ps. I'm actually writing quite happily today, but thought I deserved a break...

Daffodils (Especially for Graham)

On Seeing the First Daffodils in Sainsbury's

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once, in Sainsbury's, lo!
Bunches of golden daffodils!
Behind the meat, beyond the peas,
(Not fluttering, there was no breeze.)

When often on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
I often dream of daffodils
(I very rarely dream of food).
The first bright sign spring's on the way -
I have to buy some now! Today!

Out go the sausages and bread
The cleaning products, oh, so dull.
I must buy daffodils instead
Until my shopping trolley's full.
I only came in for my lunch,
But daffodils! A pound a bunch!

And oh, my heart with pleasure fills
And dances, as I reach the tills.


(With apologies to Wordsworth, but I know he'd understand.)