image from cartoondealers.com
My muse showed up at sunrise with a grin I didn’t trust, whispered, “Let’s write brilliance!” though my brain was gathering dust. My notebook’s overflowing~ every page a scribbled plea: Why do ideas strike at midnight but ignore me during tea? I chase down inspiration like a tumbleweed in flight~ it rolls off toward the mountains while I trip in morning light. My drafts are wild stampedes, every sentence bucking free; I wrangle them with coffee and a whispered, Mercy me…
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