When the muse tells me his story,
it’s usually late into the night,
and so I chase after him
hoping to catch him
as my dreams take wondrous
flight

And when the words start to flow
there’s nothing I can do
to stop them,
and in the morning
when the sun rises,
it starts all over again.

Daily Prompt

*That first version, done while still in bed, was so terrible.  Thank goodness there’s the edit button.