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Where My Muse Does Play…Long ago and far away Where my child-like muse does play Are fancy fields of daffodils Lined in lace and other frills Grandma's stories of days of yore And butterfly wings to explore White Shoulder scents and candy canes The five and dime down Flower Lane Sunday Morn, the church bells ringing Mama in the kitchen singing Sister giggling in the crib Brother's jokes, he did adlib Kittens born beneath my bed Sweet dreams dancing in my head Sleeping peaceful, snuggled warm Never fearing any harm Thunder roared and lightening traced The awe felt wonder on my face Listening to each drop of rain My muse never let in any pain But that was long ago and far away My muse now filled with pain, dismay Calls to me time and again ‘Till alas, her sad song, I do pen So bare with me for a write or two While I seek out my child-like muse When she comes back, I'll pen her song And perhaps, you all, will pen along…. L.A.McNabb 22 February, 2005 Copyright © 2005 Lori Ann Mc Nabb, All Rights Reserved Vote for this poem
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