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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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You