Writer’s Block and Eggnog

Image by Eve Seace

Discouraged
My word well is empty
a stone hollow of musty air
and no moisture
to germinate tales

Why do I ponder
over and over
to make sense of the words
drifting through my
imagination

No one but me sees
the truth in the chaos
until I slide-puzzle the words
into an order, building an image
others recognize

Lately, though…
nothing flows
sadness brims behind
blurry eyelids
leaving red streaks

No time for melancholy
during the holidays
joyful noise abides
singing children
bouncing hay rides

Hot cocoa and mini marshmallows
sticky foam on children’s lips
warm bellies and hearts
on a frigid winter night
under a shining star