When my muse rests
his head and leaves me for the day
oblivious
of what he instilled
oblivious
of the flow that ramps up inside
of words and scenes that burn their way into
my story
my fingers fly
to a rhythm that sends my brain into
a trance
away from the world
sequestered to those who can’t read my mind
liberated to those who can
When my muse rests
his head and leaves me for the day
my fire blazes

Categories: A Bit of Everything
I think my muse needs a lesson or two from yours this week, Mina. Happy Holidays!
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And to you, Donna! Looking forward to discuss muses in the New Year.
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