Thoughts in my head like industrious bees in their hive: buzzing, bumping, busy in their individual tasks of feeding their young or defending their territory or tending to the queen. I sit quietly and watch them. Soon, I know, one will fly out of the nest, and we will be able to write about it. Which shall it be?
Help us, Muse. We need direction.
“Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite:
"Fool!" said my muse to me, "look in thy heart, and write.”
― Philip Sidney, Astrophel and Stella
"Fool!" said my muse to me, "look in thy heart, and write.”
― Philip Sidney, Astrophel and Stella
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