She is the object of my desire and affection. The spot that shines bright in the posts that you read and the spirit that consumes my dreams.
She is ageless and a rainbow prism of color. Her voice is as sweet as it is demanding, both responding to and asking of commands. Her beauty is that of the worlds present and beyond, but never talked about using her own breath.
She is a friend, lover and true companion. She is with me as a light during the times of deep darkness and brighter then the glory days of summer when my keel is balanced.
She inspires and creates from within. Her presence is felt, heard and thought of at all times. Her skin is sweeter then the cane itself, and that's where you will find my lips.
She has left me and I hope she returns. Will I recognize her when she does, or will her form be foreign to me? Her voice echos in my ears and I wait for her glorious return.
Friday, July 10, 2009
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6 comments:
Your writing is great. Very touching poem.
I think the very definition of a muse is that she will immediately resonate with you and be your inspiration without thought or forcing it.
Good luck...
your writing always touches me. I can feel your connection and she is quite a Muse!
Good luck hun!
Very well written... very heartfelt
I think I like these posts more then some of the others. Maybe
'cause I know you and understand the idea of a muse huh?... or dream of a muse... or maybe I'm just talking to talk... but, it was a good post!! kisses~
Sometimes the muse morphs... be careful of confining the idea of her, and embrace her if she does. Just do not lose her...
I loved this, Con X. Fantastic.
CW
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