From The Known Words 2, long out of print and replaced by The Known Words, which doesn’t include this (among others) due to it being not of sufficiently high standard:
This is pseudo-autobiographical, the differences being that it was my bike and girlfriend that disappeared, not my horse and my wife (neither of which I have, or intend to ever have). In a sense it was a good thing, because nothing causes me writer’s block quite as effectively as contentment. But I still didn’t like it.
My life was full of wonders, my happiness knew no bounds
Why, even the winter mornings were full of joyful sounds.
And the Baron, he called me over, a boon he had to ask:
“You’re a poet, I see; will you be one for me? Do you think you can do the task?”
Well, thanks for the invitation, I’d love to be a bard,
I’ve got the time and I like to rhyme, so it shouldn’t be really hard!
I went and found my pet goose, I borrowed a quill or two;
I mixed the ancient formulae for ink, a loathesome brew!
I sat myself at table, with plenty of paper stock;
And couldn’t you tell, but I instantly fell in the clutches of writer’s block!
I prayed for inspiration, I begged almighty God,
Inspire my heart for the bardic art, will you give me a bit of a prod!
The Lord, he must have heard me; my life, it took a turn;
Some scoundrel stole my horse and a fever began to burn.
But when some sly-tongued bastard seduced away my wife…
The poems I wrote were inspired, you’ll note, by my God-forsaken life!
So thanks for the inspiration, and thank you for your help
And the next time I need it, I don’t think I’ll plead it: I’ll bloody well help myself!