Last Night I Dreamt

Last night I dreamt I wrote a poem
And it was all complete
But then, by accident, I hit
The key that said “Delete.”

I tried, in vain, to reconstruct
The words I’d deftly chosen,
But all my efforts were for naught;
My brain was blank or frozen.

I knew it was a masterpiece,
The best I’d ever written
And every reader, every judge
Would surely have been smitten.

When I awoke, I wondered
If my dream, perhaps, were true;
But since this poem is all that’s left,
That’s quite an ample clue.