golden dragon wings
prolong the breeze
like bamboo flower sighs
gay paper lanterns
flutter over a sunset path
protecting against the time
when lotus blossom clouds
fade through mauve
to midnight
By Camachee
This poem remains my favorite. From the old days in the B room.
I like that, too. The beauty of having a muse is that stuff just passes through and you are free to exercise judgment and perception after the fact.
A lot of people just feel that that's a good description of being drunk. :O)