the garden of my muse

how often we sit and stare and one innocent memory opens the floodgates of our inability

My Muse’s Garden

~~~

 

she bids me go

I hesitate

I look to her and she motions me onward

 

...”go on...GO ON!”...

 

and I start to write

first one word then another

and pause..

stare at the big blank page

(except for two lonely words)

 

...”go on.”...

 

she comes near

I hear your bracelets jangle

on your wrists

smell her perfume as your hands

caress my brow...

she kisses me softly

on the crown of my head...

 

...”close your eyes.”...

 

I do...

I feel her sweet breath warm on my neck...

 

...“what do you see?”...

my eyes are closed...

”In your head...what do you see?”...

 

I start to reply but she comes to me...close...

so close I can feel the heat of her skin...

with a single fingertip...

she touches my lips...

 

...”shhhh...what you see?”

 

...I saw...

 

woodlands and farmlands and highlands and moors

large castles with towers, moats and great doors

soaring cathedrals and homes with thatched roofs

royalty, penury, pagans and poufs

bellicose tyrants and indentured serfs

iron-fist cruelty to tillers of earth

kings and their queens sat on thrones made of gold

Jousts were the grist of the tales they extolled

an Era in time when chivalry ruled

knights wore their armor and jesters be-fooled

with pampering pages and papal prelates

carriages, highwaymen lying in wait

bravely, King Arthur pulled sword from the stone

we all know the story...he did it alone

a time of great honor yet  justice could bend

battles, rebellions and wars without end

magic of Merlin...a sorcerer’s trade

men proved their mettle while wielding a blade

fire-breathing dragons...with valor they slew

 

...all swirling my mind in a magical brew...

 

she leans into me

her kiss fills me with sparks

and her fiery-orb eyes..

peer into my own

filling me with wonder and amazement

one scented hand on my heart...

...it was beating out loud...

and her other touches my own

that holds my pen...

 

...”now, write...my love...WRITE!”...

 

and I did...

 

my words started to flow

like armies of ink footmen

marching in columns

...on a crusade of truth

...or fantasy...or whatever whim

...I chose ...

across page after page

of linen wasteland...

transforming them by the wonder imbued me

into the lush, fertile garden

 

..of my muse...

 

Reviews

[Another Relic]

An amazing poem Dovetailor. It must have taken a large amount of time just for the middle section alone. Very creative with a mixture of simple infused with complex. Great poem.

[Sweet_pale_cacophony]

This was an interesting read in the way that there were two alternate themes running hand in hand here.It is sensual,loving and then in the middle it shifts towards a different era altogether.I like how you are versatile to merge in themes so different in nature.I like the entire stanza when it began from farmlands,highlands..

[deeps]

I like this I thought it was an amazing write, very creative as well.