Her ashen face upon the pillow lay
As then the light about her hair did play
Her eyes so glinted with the coming day
(Oh joy, sweet joy, my Muse returned to stay)
A smile upon her lovely face she bore
And thus within my soul her aspect tore
O Muse, my Muse, then Phoenix-like did soar
Now, as a wraith, she dances in my heart
Once more her words of love now to impart
No more her soul from mine will ever part
Her magic yet again shall cast its spell
As inspiration`s visions yet compel
To fill the page with stories new to tell
I pray that she will ever be my guide
Set in my heart, my soul, and by my side
As one we shall forever so abide
Beneath the sun and stars we so entwine
O Muse, my Muse, thus now forever mine
Within my mind her beauty e`er to shine
Pirate Girl is always dying on me. She wants me to miss her I guess. All kidding aside great write, it's so nice to be mused.
Soi pleased your muse is back Val-, your poems are just wonderful with or without it though.another wonderful write.
Here is the late evening muse: Silly muse you startled me Your reported absence and demise, Well you're back so set to work On golden shores and eyes, No more skiving off, refrain We want sonnets, rhymes and ballads And rhythms set in train And all before you can go home, So don't, I repeat don't, do it again.
Absolutely lovely write.... and lovely that you appreciate your muse...tyvm karen
Interesting. Well done and finely set. Such a joy to read. Sometimes, we need a little break, but... happy for the resurrection.
The Reader - An interesting thought, but no I was not thinking about Captain Cur when I wrote this. My Muse comes from within myself, but I can see where you are coming from.
Poems are generally appreciated n interpreted according to the understanding, assumptions and whims of the readers, so here i would like to give my own interpretation (that might be wrong) ...the poets continue to take inspiration from each other, n in a way they are each other's support...this poem seems to me about Captain Cur's decision to stay on the site, he serves as the muse here... :)
You call it your muse I call it block. But this poem proves it never left you! Me thinks you were just kidding? Keep that muse coming Val.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A very very beautiful poem, really wonderful write.