His Muse
His muse smiled …
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.
- Her Magical Attic - May 24, 2024
- Reflecting on the Setting Sun - April 9, 2024
- In My Special Dreams - February 16, 2024
Oh! Rasma, I love this verse. How wonderful that the painter found his true creativity when his Muse appeared in his life. Delightful read.
Thank you Phyllis.
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.
Thank you John. It’s always best that muses are close by.
Love love loved this. The muse, she is a wonderful friend in all the arts.
Thank you Lori. Totally agree with you.
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.
Thank you Tony.
When my muse is found I can only pray that it lasts for awhile. Jamie
That sure is true Jamie. I have had short spurts of inspiration and inspiration that lasts long into the night.
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.
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.