The Poet and His Muse
Like a bright, colorful butterfly,
no one is as beautiful as you.
Once again he was young and in love
and heady from her perfume.
In her lovely face he gazed,
completely mesmerized
and there like green emeralds –
he saw her eyes glitter and shine.
With her by his side,
the dark clouds all rolled away,
where he thought there were no more words to say,
she filled his heart and soul with poetry.
As the purple twilight came,
eagerly he waited,
listening for her special song,
that she would whisper in his ear.
As divine inspiration came,
along with it golden memories,
and when the words stopped flowing,
in the corner of his eye there was always a tear.
Her rainbow arched over his sorrow,
carrying all the colors in her hands
and he followed behind her –
knowing she’d inspire and take him to a better land.
The poet wasn’t sure,
if it was a dream or reality,
but he was so mesmerized,
when his muse sang and whispered in his ear.
His hands begin to tremble,
he was afraid to reach out to her,
for perhaps like a wonderful dream –
like a butterfly that’s here and gone she would fly.
That is why in his poetic thoughts,
there is a touch of sorrow,
because he’s not her master, only a humble poet –
standing before her and loving his muse.
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A well written poem, Rasma. I love my muse too.
Thank you John.
Muses are so loved and important in our life. Lovely poem and well written, Rasma. I enjoyed reading it.
Thank you Phyllis. It’s always important to thank our muses for the inspiration they provide.
Lovely Rasma, and some great phrasing too…’her rainbow arched over her sorrow’. Excellent work
Thank you Tony.
because he’s not her master, only a humble poet –
standing before her and loving his muse……. Story of my life – great read Rasma
Thank you Kurt.
Such a great topic to write about Rasma – I expect we all have our muse; mine is my wife and like your character, it’s difficult sometimes to tell what is real or what imagined. Very enjoyable to read!
Thank you R.J. when inspiration really comes upon me I could get lost in my own world for hours.
This one really spoke to me. I have been struggling as of late to find my muse I do not know what she has been up to lately. I hope she helps me get over my writer’s block. Good piece Rasma speaks volumes~Paul
Thank you Paul. What helps me get inspired is some favorite music, the quiet of the night and soon my fingers begin flying over the keyboard.