His Muse

His muse smiled …

Flowers 012

It never seemed there were dreams enough,

it never seemed that people cared.

He was a silent and quite painter,

who painted what he dreamed of.

All of the fantasies he had

and the childhood dreams –

that he lost along the way,

came alive in colors of oil.

He painted with his heart and soul,

often wondering what people saw –

like a poet wonders,

what people find to like –

in his poetic words.

When they looked at his paintings –

Were they just seeing what was painted there?

or Did they travel into his fantasy world as well?

Along came his muse,

the ideal of all of his dreams.

She was just what he needed,

to make all of the colors so true

and his paintings seem real.

Suddenly he could break lose,

step out into the real world

and paint like he had never painted before.

What a difference she made,

his muse came along just in time.

There was no reason or rhyme,

why she had finally come

or from what centuries past,

but she knew how to inspire

and make all of his best dream last –

until his brush had captured it all,

upon a canvas of white.

Now he painted the colors that she represented,

the colors that came to his mind

and the wonderful pictures that sprang forth.

When his muse was by his side,

no longer the dark dismal feelings,

no longer the tears that stained his paintings.

Now there were sunrises and sunsets,

there were flowers ,

seascapes, forest settings

and happy nature scenes.

There was the love that exploded on canvas,

that came from within –

when his muse was by his side.

Nothing was too difficult,

suddenly he had been released ,

from all the darkness that had him chained,

all of those brooding thoughts,

just disappeared

and he was in awe,

of what appeared on his canvas.

His muse smiled

and brought the sunshine,

into his life.

There was nothing he couldn’t do,

now that life was beginning anew.

It all happened that wonderful day,

when his muse captured his soul

and stole his heart away.

Rasma Raisters

I am a poet and writer. I write for many different sites online. I have two published books of poems on Amazon - Poetic Thoughts Fly and On the Wings of Love.

Latest posts by Rasma Raisters (see all)


Rasma Raisters

I am a poet and writer. I write for many different sites online. I have two published books of poems on Amazon - Poetic Thoughts Fly and On the Wings of Love.

12 thoughts on “His Muse

  • August 16, 2016 at 2:07 AM

    Oh! Rasma, I love this verse. How wonderful that the painter found his true creativity when his Muse appeared in his life. Delightful read.

  • August 16, 2016 at 5:10 AM

    Wonderful poem, Rasma. I am in love with my muse. If she is absent, part of me is missing and my attempts at writing suffer.

  • August 16, 2016 at 12:55 PM

    Love love loved this. The muse, she is a wonderful friend in all the arts.

  • August 16, 2016 at 6:15 PM

    We all need inspiration not matter what the art, and when we find that muse, expression is the color of the world and no limits can exist. Nicely penned and expressed Rasma. Great work.

    • September 18, 2016 at 1:59 AM

      That sure is true Jamie. I have had short spurts of inspiration and inspiration that lasts long into the night.

  • July 8, 2017 at 2:40 PM

    Our Muse can be a blessing or a curse. Mine left me for 6 months and now has returned with no explanation. I suppose he was teaching me something or a lesson in humility. I feel so redeemed. Nicely penned my Rasma.

    • July 10, 2017 at 3:01 AM

      Thank you Vincent. I have been lucky my muses constantly flit around and whisper to me. I do believe my dear dad above being glad I have followed in his footsteps keeps them on their toes.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

By continuing to use the site, you agree to the use of cookies. more information

Our cookie settings are set to "allow cookies" to give you the best browsing experience possible. By continuing to browse this website you are accepting our cookie policy.