Alanna Blake: On First Looking Into A Rhyming Dictionary

 Much have I suffered from  poetic block,
 Abandoned  by my muse, my mind as blank
 As were the pages, while my spirits sank
 And  all I did was watch the crawling clock.
 While others beat me at the writing game
 I tore my hair, went on producing nought,
 Until I found and very swiftly bought
 This book, and with it inspiration came.
 Then felt I as a laureate must feel
 When words and rhythm join in verses, cast
 In lines that swiftly flow to ends that chime,
 And all combine in poems that look real.
 My sonnets can be colourful at last
 For even orange does not lack a rhyme.