Stuff Inside My Head

I don’t quite know why I like writing as much as I do But if I don’t type up something daily I feel quite blue What if’s parade around in my head when I am awake. I get ideas at breakfast about sheep brushing a snake. That’s silly says Trixie, my muse who is in charge of me. She throws out sixteen ideas that take me to one knee. We are besties, my muse and I, we write as if we are one. The most important thing, we agree, is to have lots of fun. The stuff that comes into my head cannot be from myself. It is as if they land in my dendrite lane from a dragon-like elf. Adjectives and adverbs and made up words give me joy. My incessant writing is more fun than any other kind of hobby or toy. Faeries living in mushroom houses come by on a regular basis. Then a thought grabs our fancy about a bicycle donkey oasis. Playing with words is hilarious to Trixie and me, especially rhymes. We often stay up all night; tonight might be one of those times.