Beside the Fountain / by Brian Kunde

Beside the Fountain
by Brian Kunde

When once the muses’ fount, that bubbled oft
When I first came athirst to slake my drought,
Commenced to falter, having flung aloft
Too copiously, all too soon its spout
Of inspiration dribbled, dripped and dried,
Its sustenance denied to mind and pen—
The freely-flowing verse congealed, died,
And left no pledge to brim the bowl again.
Emparched once more, I faltered out the lines
In dolor, daily wilting by that brook
Unbountiful and desert, seeking signs
What once had been might be again—but look!
It leaps anew imbued with fresh designs!
I’ve dashed some off and put them in this book.

* * * * *

Beside the Fountain

from A Fountain on the Margins : mostly new poems, 1st ed., Sep. 2009.

1st web edition posted 10/27/2009.