Yet, I shall not accept my fate:
Consigned by God to ruminate.
Old cobwebs is what one will find
up in the attic of my mind.
Dustbins of gold and diamonds,
sweet music for all sycophants.
Pink water lillies do exude,
on stagnant waters, tranquil mood.
Immersed in morning's precious mist,
devoid of words, mosquito-kissed.
I have, my Lord, still more to give
I'll prove it if you let me live.

Herbert Nehrlich

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/writer-s-block-6/