Poem: Muse Back from Vacation

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The Muse awakens
from a long peaceful nap
pours a cup of coffee

Sunlight through the blinds
diffuses through the house
soft shadows creep on by

The hum of electronics
the clatter of keyboard
slip into familiar territory

a pile of ideas
half written, half forgotten
what will become of them

the editor wants this and that
all will appear in due time
good work can't be rushed

she is fickle but focused
interruptions not welcome
but rolls with every single one

a time of rest required
though pressure to produce
looms large on the horizon

the well can't run dry
she fills another mug
and gets to the business

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