Not Amusething

Sitting here alone at night wondering what I'll find to write. Serious or just for fun I never know until it's done. I feel my fingers tapping keys, they seem to go where err they please. Choosing what they want to write whilst I just sit alone all night. Up to now it's not profound, in words I see, no message found. So what's the reasoning they take and every night keep me awake. Oh bugger this, I'm off to bed, my Muse must think I am off my head if she thinks I can understand the reason why she guides my hand. So goodnight Muse, and goodnight all maybe next time she may recall a verse that worth me losing sleep but until then upstairs I'll creep! Ivor G Davies