Elusive Muse

 

Where did my muse go?

She's hinding again

so that all that I am

Are words wrapped up in skin.

She's not even trying

To fight her way out--

So now here I am

Filled with questions and doubt.

Since I've been disgarded

I hang my head low--

Anymore I'm unsure

What I am, was, I know.

She's done ths before--

Once she left me for years,

Therefore I had no words

For my loss, joy, my tears.

Then, out-of-the-blue,

She called me to write.

My pen stroked the page,

Words piled up over night.

And they came, and they came,

And they did not stop

Until now, for some reason

She's put up a block.

So now the page weeps

For her lover the pen.

We ask, when, out fair muse,

Will you use us again?

Reviews

[Lizanne]

Oh to lose that darling muse! Happens to us all and it really hurts. You are sitting there, pen poised to write and zelch comes out. Loved this poetic and skillful work. Evidently she slipped back when you were not looking. A light, yet so true work of the inspiration to write.