My Muse She Died Today Poem by Valerie Dohren
My Muse She Died Today
Her ashen face upon the pillow lay
As then the light upon her hair did play
With sadness borne, my Muse, she died today
Her words did flicker with the dying light
O sorrow, sorrow, now shall be my plight
To ever seek her in the blackest night
No more to hear her whisper words of love
Nor inspiration sent from heav`n above
My empty mind and heart no more to move
O Muse, my Muse, in darkness now I `bide
My soul consumed forever by the tide
And how I long with thee to e`er reside
Where now to find the magic I once knew
When to my heart and soul she was so true
O gone forever her encircling hue
O Muse, my Muse, I beg for your return
That in my thoughts you yet again shall burn
O Muse, my Muse, for you I`ll ever yearn
And here is the muse: 'Today Val lost poetic spark And yet her verse denies the dark, Her day's not flat but for lyric overjoy And flow to heart and ear Such mellifluous thoughts Sad and loneliness cannot deploy, Later on Val was heard to say All inspiration had slipped away, But within the trace of a fleeting ghost Her sun shines along a ragged coast And rings each isle and estuary With uplifting rhyme to the contrary Auriferous sun and argentiferous moon In fine silken rhythms deftly stitched Notions ethereal are laid and pitched And journeys embarked with just a word To clouds like caverns all worlds inverse I will not accept this proposterious curse That Val has lost poetic mojo That her verses can no longer flow Who dares oppress a heart to grow, I can bare most any views And awful earthly doings news, But do not come to me and offer up such a feeble excuse, Youth lost, trading amenity for sanity That version of aesthetic is pathetic, and That cannot be accepted, But in light of pain or toturers abuse Then and only then, tell me that Val, Is bereft and literally beached marooned obtuse and abstruse confined in pensive solitude Within her stately mews Will bar the doors with writers block And draw drapes to night all views Will retreat with dried out quill And banish all reviews, Do not utter but as muted sigh That Val has lost her muse.
Just give it a little rest and it will be back, I hope. Anyhow, I know your feeling. I'll keep checking you
Nothing much we can do except we keep praying for the loved ones along with the love light above...remembering the one who leaves us could be a junction for memories bridging our past days, moment of beautiful...That's life we will gain and lose, soon we shall meet again, so be smile a little for that time_SOul
Oh no, Your Muse is very much alive and this wonderful poem itself is the testimony! !
Don't worry, be happy-she'll be back. She always comes back it seems.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/9/2025 10:07:08 PM # 1.0.0
Tender eloquent poetic pleas that touch and move the writer/reader to seek the Muse with increased passion. Brilliant composition.