Warbling, a pretty sparrow, she’s come to visit thee, to spread wonder and good tidings, perfection uttered, pure beauty to be seen. She scratches around the back garden, throwing her head back, intelligent eyes glinting occasionally, she is here with great promise, her effect is really something that needs to be felt to be believed. Suddenly, inspiration flows through your left hand, images, metaphors, swim in your mind, she’s here to inspire, you suddenly realise, her presence within yours a desirous prize. How lucky you feel that upon you she’s bestowed her ability to assist you with poetry, prosody, and prose, the great joy you feel, as electricity flows through your very being – she flutters her wings now, it appears she wants to be wholly seen. No more scratching among the shrubs and twigs, no more blending in with the boughs and leaves, she warbles, she tweets, the triumphant beauty of her song almost brings you weeping, to your knees. But you’re unable to pay homage to your muse because your left hand, primed with pen is moving erratically, furiously, injected with the power of thoughts and their mystical clouds and threads. What have you created? I wonder. Is there something amazing across the page? Your quiet sense of knowing, the struck inspiration, running cursive which shall be typed and saved. And now our beauty flits, flies high, up and away, we will sit here waiting together for Sparrow’s next arrival to inspire you another day. © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. Image by Oldiefan from Pixabay
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Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose 
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