Not a creative bone is tapping away on my inner typewriter tonight. I am like a skeleton in shock. Strumming my fingers on the desk. Visualise a crusty corpse waiting for an ah-ha moment. Can you just give me CPR or have I missed the cue?
Ok brain try…”She walks in beauty as the night as silver stars and starry skies”.
Nice try but not a chance! That sounds vaguely familiar like one of the great poets of yesteryear. Mmm… yes Lord Byron. Damn.
Love the Pexels pic I found tonight. Totally suits the subject. You know where my head is at. Lots of scrunched paper at this end too.