This morning, my Muse woke me with a brush of her lips
I resisted but my mind insisted
Creativity must flow from MY fingers

On the way to my laptop
I bumped into a glass of water
That conspired to become a river

My eyeglasses and hair tie lay
Intertwined with cozy blankets
Fingers became eyes

Rachmaninoff set my mood
Until Internet fell back asleep
Sound of snoring instead of an etude


 

Welcome to Day Six for NaPoWriMo! Today’s poem is inspired by a particular type of morning poem called an aubade. Traditionally they are written in dialogue form between lovers as they part in early dawn. My poem shows my “love” for Monday instead.

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