The Muse - Poem by Norman Mukwakwami
Why? she asks,
Why do you always write about love?
A mischievous smile creases her face.
Arms across her ample chest.
Love, I say
For a moment, i'm lost for words.
I'm at that age, I tell her,
Where love is the ruling passion.
The perceived reason for living.
For waking up.
Love makes beauty more vivid,
Scents more alluring.
It keeps you smiling.
It makes you believe nothing else matters,
Nothing but love.
Nothing but YOU!
Comments about The Muse by Norman Mukwakwami
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye