Poem Lost Then Found by Joan Currie

Did a poem visit me during the night?
I asked as I stirred in the morning light.

Did some verse try to rouse me from my bed,
But settled then in someone else’s head?

Some disparate words rattle in my brain,
What do they mean, will others come again?

The day unfolds and at last they are clear,
I pen my poem before they disappear.

It is fascinating to learn what creative connections occur during sleep!