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