At night, when all the world's asleep
And tucked away in bed,
My pen and I are wide awake
And writing this instead.
A verse, another, then one more --
The Muse's magic touch
Has swayed my heart to poems,
And the late result is such.
Why Night awakens Muses
I am hard put, yet, to see,
But I do not mind it really,
For -- you know -- it pleases me.
Such a pleasant pastime, writing,
And then later, to repeat,
When the time and touch are perfect,
That same fascinating treat.
When the weary world is sleeping,
I am lying on my bed,
Spinning posies from the heavens
With a Magic Muse, instead.
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