so BB. Here's one for you to finish.

I cannot rest, though slumber teases eyes
long opened by the rush of daylight's care
to close and Muse, untroubled by the moon,
bright mistress of the dark and rushing air,
waits, patient, gossamer. With deft fingers
gather up puckered threads of memories
too sweet to forget, yet fragile at the last.
My Muse,