The Muse
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She came to me by night, while I was still half asleep; stooped down beside my bed to whisper softly in my ear a line so perfect and neat, for my inspiration to meet, that when I was once awake I would copy for all to hear, but then sleep interfered; that when awake at daybreak I could no longer find her face, for she had left me and there was nothing left for me to make; all was gone like melted snow, leaving a line now displaced, with memory now a hollow. © D G Moody 2023
Thoughtful and wonderful poem.
You can certainly see your writing skills in your work. All the time go after your heart.
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