Last Words of the Day

Curled up warmly in my bed,
pen and paper by my side;
thoughts, running through my head,
drag me along a fantasy ride.

Typical for my pesky muse.
I rub my sleepy eyes.
He better have a good excuse
and sing me pretty lullabies.

But first, I have to write,
let my thoughts into the wild;
be it poetry with a bite
or a story for a child.

Finally, allowed some rest,
I settle down once more,
drifting to a dreamy quest
along a distant shore.