She glances to me
And I’m drawn in
Those eyes cast a spell
No strength within
This moment I have
No one I would tell
Transfixed by her beauty
She is my belle

She has the grace of an angel
Her voice supple and sweet
Her touch powered by magic
I know I could not compete
Her wit as sharp as an arrow
Intellect fresh and acute
To try to out match
An endless pursuit

I think of her often
Or always of late
I want so to impress her
I just want to create
So I sit down to write
I know not what will befall
But images start flowing
I try to capture them all

These gifts are for her
For she is my muse
She sparks my energy
Hers to peruse
I can’t explain this connection
Nor do I want to try
I love making her smile
Making her laugh, or cry

Mere words cannot explain
How I feel about her
I could never articulate directly
Only through prose can I confer
So I should probably stop
Before I say way too much
It is all that I want
Her heart I should touch

1 thought on “Muse

  1. I love this one. For once I can express how someone can inspire me to write. This pic is a friend of mine in Vancouver. She is not aware of this, I hope she does not mind. It’s nice not to be writing myself off of a ledge and just write something born of inspiration. But as per usual, I will express love and admiration in a vacuum, never to let the recipient know my feelings. As you are walking down the street and rounding the corner, that’s when I’ll say “I love you”. I revel in isolation.


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