I put the teacup down,
looked up from my book;
and whatever calls the eye
...
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Most interesting is it not? There are times when fascination with a single object, view or singular thought seems enough to carry one through a lifetime.
A little flash of enlightenment perhaps? What inspires a poem is so often just a trick of the light, or an unusual absence of sound or maybe 'that place' tapping you on the shoulder. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥