What wrought this thought? I've often fought with feelings only to be overcome. And then again my mind misgives, and once again my thought within me lives. No feeling of a loss so great as a muse who did not wait, but on ahead forged resolute until I gained her confidence. She knows me more than I myself have known how feelings come and go.

Don't despair! Your muse is there, but weighted down perhaps with care.

The smile is waiting for your face to crown your frown with its disgrace. A smile is such a fickle thing. Karaoke can't make it sing. But when the yellow bird of paradise sits bloated with the wedding rice, a shotgun blast will scatter his repast, and his last thoughts your muse will bring.

Moral of the story: Don't look a gift bird in the mouth, especially if it's bequeathed at your shotgun wedding! (time to sing now!)

By the way, I enjoyed reading your poem. You have a fine style.

Roger

Please check the filing cabinets of your mind *Erin*
interesting penning, but don't want to lose you..

Lady Vivian

A muse is a terrible thing to waste. But when you've lost it, it's even worse.

Ron