Lost
Just before daybreak while lying in bed
A lovely poem was filling my head.
To my computer to write it all down,
In all its glory, each adverb and noun.
Abounding in beauty, a honeyed delight
I printed it there in clear black and white.
My sonnet was charming on the bright scrreen,
Not even a typo was there to be seen
This verse was 'magnum opus' without a doubt.
I reached for the key to print it all out.
To my dimay, the screen went quite bare.
I searched in my head, the poem was not there.
I hadn't saved it. How did it delete?
I went back to my bed, admitting defeat.
If my muse should find my creation again,
I'll write it this time, with safe ink and pen.
By Joyce
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