Every writer has a muse. Perhaps a town, a city, a park, a dream, an object, or a person. Sometimes beautiful to the eye or crazy with abstract thought. A muse is a muse or a muse isn’t a muse. Maybe it begins and then suddenly ends. The magic taunting, teasing, perfectly inspiring. Then nothing, or always something. A muse is a lover, a part of a soulful experience. A muse takes your imagination for an adventure, a journey or a walk. A muse sparks magic and verse, impossible in prose. A muse, a muse, a muse, I have a muse, I have you.