Inevitable Muse Poem by moon batchelder

wakening from dreams it seems by lyrics that insist
on using or enthusing me to manifest their rhyme;
taking hold my mind the muse moves words to hand and wrist,
as humbly i succomb to this endeavor so sublime.

no subtlety to this possession, blessing tho it were
to be incessantly imposed upon in such a way;
a simple vessel for the wisdom verses dare infer;
my emptiness necessity to what the muse would say.

small wonder then that i contend with those who offer praise
intending to inform them that the glory's not my own
at times i've cursed the rhyming verse, so out of place these days
that flows through me without a thought! then suddenly atone,

for part of me would cease to be, and stone define my heart
did i resist the tendency to poetry and art.