I wish that I could build windmills
In the vast and empty space between my ears
Maybe they would power my imagination
And feed my hopes and fears
I wish that I could plow the fields of my mind
And raise a bountiful crop
With lands and lands of growing ideas
Over hills and valleys until they drop
Into ravines and torrents of inspiration
Flowing through my very veins
Gushing, splashing onto paper
Roaring like oncoming trains
And blasting speedily through my write-block
Then coming steadily through my head
So I can be happy with my efforts
AND FINALLY, I CAN GO TO BED!