The beauty of the night,
when the world is still.
Ink covered fingers,
blank page and quill.
A writing muse awakens,
with the rising of the moon.
Words set in motion
like a wild typhoon.
Dark letters fall on white,
a new vision created.
The muse slept with the sun,
inspiration waited.
As the stars emerged,
they shined their light.
The writer felt at home
with the beauty of the night.
- EJ
©Emma-Jane Barlow,
all words are my own.
YOU ARE READING
A Collection Of Poetry (EJPoetry)
PoetryA collection of poetry that I have shared on different social media platforms. I will keep adding to this collection so add it to your library. Follow me on Instagram, Twitter & Facebook @EmmaJanePoetry.
