Irene C S ClarkHogg

Musing - Poem by Irene C S ClarkHogg

The muse now flows
Yet no-one knows
Where each thought goes
Or even the place from where it came.

Write black on white
With pen held tight
The words are right
And rhyme and rhythm blend the same.

Or picture quaint
Slow flows the paint
And none may taint
The muse that hides within my brain.

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Poem Submitted: Monday, June 16, 2008

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