Quite often I pick up my quill
and sit on my favorite seat
Although each writer knows the drill
not every author/muse do meet
sometimes she sleeps,  
at bard's ensweep

Repeatedly  the sun meets plume
with just one gaze she's all aglow;
Catching the scent of her perfume  
I scribe away by evening glow
but when she's here,  
she's oh,... so dear !