The muse came sat on my right shoulder,
Hummed beautiful words.
Sing clearer and in sequence I demanded,
This offended the muse, which flew away
And I was left with a few sad crumbs on
The kitchen table.

Not much, to work on, I grumbled, but
Then the sun thawed clouds and smiled
Through the kitchen window, as telling
Me to enjoy the moment and not try
To catch the ephemeral and a vista of a
Fertile land enfolded where, once, only
Scorpions had roamed.

Yes, I will enjoy this moment and not ask
For more. The winter sun warmed my
Morning grumpy face.