The bitch I sat there in my usual spot fingers poised awaiting her dominion It will begin as a trickle I peck my way across the page She takes hold and the scenes unfolding behind my eyelids magically find their way to the page Magic It really does feel like magic She has hold of me My fingers glide unbidden forming the images in my mind's eye The world around me forgotten It's just me and the page This is the magic my muse wields for me But not today My Muse broke our appointment again The fickle bitch Copyright (C) 2021 Penny Wilson *The original version of this was written in 2018. I liked it very much back then, but I've revised and refreshed it here. I hope you enjoy.
