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this describes how poems sometimes drop from the ether almost ready made

Astral Bard

Water_witch-2by Abigael16 Dec 2013

Fair seer
intuit beauty
as night absorbs the moon and stars
as thorns know the rose
time streams along age-worn bedrock
underscored by muse.
Hush! Listen!
Life sings a solar windsong
Lips open to paint new visions
Ink sweeps silks in fantasy strokes
her poems plucked from the ether
to reanimate,
as nectar for soul
fragrant
as rose wine