The elusive muse,
as the flighty
butterfly,
picks and chooses
its momentary
resting place
as sunlight softly fallen.
Dubbing an
unearned knighthood,
the fragment of
thought,
alights upon the
shoulder
lightly,
transitory
with the ethereal
touch
of fairy dust.
If you rise from
your kneeling
the capricious
muse
will disappear
like a wraith,
if you remain
you will not
capture
the transient
contemplation.
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