Last night, as I lay sleeping;

A thought ran through my head.

Shall I write more haiku or try some rhyme instead? 

And so with plume in hand and ink pot close nearby,

Sand caster at the ready to ensure my ink would dry.

I began. By the light of the silvery moon to let words fall,

Simply where they may. My word there were so many;

I had so much to say.  

I wrote throughout the night, until the sun did rise.

But there before me on my desk, blank paper nothing else.

Just empty sheets there were no words, I’d dreamed it by myself. 

Now, awake with firm resolve, I write a few words down.

However, I cannot think at all;

I have a writer’s block. My brain’s not on the ball  

With eyes wide open I now will try,

I have to take the plunge.

Sadly I realize the truth, there is no word,

 That nicely rhymes with orange.

I think I’m going to cry. 

At that, I balance my sand caster

On the center of my head.

Where I am sure, if it should fall

Will dry my tears instead.