Writer's Block

The sooty oystercatchers pipe o'er the waves at Inverloch But i can't write about it for i have writer's block And i can't write about it for i can't feel inspired Today my soul feels weary and i feel a little tired. A Summer sun is shining in a bright and sunny sky But today my soul feels empty of inspiration dry The words i juggle in my brain simply don't want to rhyme I've lost the inspiration that i had in my prime. The silver gulls around me cry for the food i eat I notice some are crippled and some are missing feet They may be Nature's children and they may live wild and free But in the wilds of Nature there too is suffering and poverty. 'Birds' cooked chips are not good for you or so 'twould seem to me Go seek your natural morsels from the shores of the sea You gobble down human left overs and your numbers multiply But due to disease your life span shorter and at a young age you die. I've seldom seen the ocean as calm as this before And the timid waves at Inverloch lap gently on the shore And the shag hangs out her wings to dry on a volcanic rock And i can't write about her for i suffer writer's block.