A Writer's Block

My sheet is lying all around,
Wherever it so pleases—
I switch positions round and round,
But nothing writing eases.

I tease the pen, I mock the start
I stand up, sit down, rock and slide,
Come closer and then move apart,
While words evade my chide.

But heavens, no, words never go
And come to scrape themselves upon
This plain pale paper, hell oh no,
And here I thought I’d write a ton.