A-musing Story
By Lone Poet
What’s become of my muse? She left me high-and-dry again, If I’m not inspired soon, I’ll sing the blues Out in the moonlit pouring rain I saw her once, she blew an elfish kiss Said artistic dreams were made of stardust, And when I threw to the wind a selfless wish I’ll find out where muses park their karmas (c) 12/01, 3/04 SmSI believe something guides me as I write...perhaps an angel, or a muse? Whatever you call it, they've always been there for me during writer's block. Thank you Muse for your magical gift of gab. Written February 7th, 2002 © on Feb 07 2002 11:36 AM PST, Sheryl Marcia Schwartz 12 • 7 • 4
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"What’s become of my muse? ..."