My Fingers Are Still Burning

Still sandy-eyed, my muse searching for something to write Perhaps thoughts of what I've dreamt about last night Scrambling and untwisting words to make a rhyme Changing those words, time after time So many themes and stories I've told There must be one left in my heart, I still hold Thinking...should I write about the moon or the stars up above Or should I write about something about someone I love My muse still in shambles still spinning and turning Must quickly write something, while my fingers are still burning Thinking...should I write about people, or someone I knew Or some loved one I know...thought out of the blue 'Nother cup of coffee might just do the trick To awaken my muse and help me think quick As I sip my cup slowly my muse starts to awaken So excited to write that my hands started shaken It's now and finally that I know what to pen I'll write about my muse, till my muse wakes... again