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The pen that Hovers


courtesy of Wikipedia
courtesy of Wikipedia

Always doth my pen hover

As I shelter from frightful weather.

There I wait,

A drop falls.

Still my muse

Refuses to call.

How can I correct

Spent ink all dried,

How to perfect

Thoughts I`d once surmised.

No editing then,

Shall be my modus operandi:

Regardless of my perfectionist fears.

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