Musings

The Muse's quill rests still on inspiration's kill, no glimmer in the dark

No spark to mark revelations of which to hark, mind's gears frozen in park

Dried ink's well lost its spell, no tales to tell, lost is imagination

Tongue tied, Calliope lied Erato at her side barred from communication

Blind, no diamonds to find, in dark mines of my mind I dig for information

Dry rock I chip but drip by drip I fill just muddied buckets of consternation

Try as I might no bright crystal in sight, thoughts go blank losing determination

I'll close this mine and put up a sign, "Here does recline my muse of divination"

Author's Note

Calliope is known as the Muse of epic poetry and rightfully distinguished as the “Chief of all Muses”
Erato: the Muse of lyric poetry, erotic poetry, mimicry, and love poetry. Her name means “lovely,”