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|
|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.