Hark, hark I hear it
Let me take your hand
And dance, dance, dance
As a foolish man may ever be
To the muse, the muse I succumb
And write, write, write
Words of poetry and story
All in flowing ethos
Stanzas spill out
Across the page celebrating
All and whatever is there
To the muse I call
In sweet devotion
I gift my everything
Love, dreams and desire
Take me and mould
Into that which I must be
Oh sweet muse
I bow to thee
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Magnificent poem, brilliantly worded, such a peaceful feel for the poet who has La Muse. Imaginable, really. But I have no muse, dear Poet. All my appreciations and respect for you, since your words were inspired by The Muse and how. Truly a wonderful poem, most beautiful words. Thank you for sharing this Beauty. A 10 full vote.
many thanks, the whole world is a muse a birdsong a flower the weather etc