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by Jay Davenport

Softly, she speaks to me,
A whisper of whimsy dancing on the
Fragile wind of creation.
Her voice is the pain of loss, and
Hope for the future.

"Create for me", and I cannot resist,
She but whispers and I am hers.
My heart, my mind, my soul; all
Within her gentle power.

"Sing", and I follow,
Words flowing onto paper, perfectly
Harmonious with her, she gazes upon me
Beautifully, affectionately, serenely.

"Dance", and I arise, taking her hand,
Emotions flowing through me.
A kiss, an embrace, just long enough to
Make me want more.

"Rest with me" she bides, slipping away
Ever so softly, until the next time.
Her wishes sated, the work completed,
I dream again.


Posted on 10/22/2006
Copyright © 2021 Jay Davenport

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Ann Krischus on 10/22/06 at 11:55 AM

beautifully written

Posted by A. Paige White on 10/22/06 at 03:58 PM

Beautiful tribute to your muse. It flows so beautifully. Truly she stood by your elbow to sit on your shoulders as you wrote.

Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 10/23/06 at 04:29 AM

Wonderful! What a lovely relationship you have with your muse.

Posted by Maria Massarella on 12/14/09 at 04:45 PM

Divine ... the muse and the poem ... a dream POTD. Congratulations, Jay!

Posted by Amie Golda on 12/14/09 at 06:13 PM

It's simple but has an apt title. You rightly pictured everything a muse it. The poem begins softly but smoothly and sweetly and blossoms well into the ending. Very nice.

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