Narrative poetry A visit from my muse leaving me in a state of deep reflection.
Desperation when the old writer's block sets in.
My muse companion has left me without a poetic clue
She wispered, " Ruby you write your best when you're feeling down and blue "
I told her, " Just look at the sun shining so brightly outside
How can i feel blue when the new buds are emerging through the soil with such unstoppable pride "
She gently tugged on my ear to remind me, she could stop coming around
I felt a tear forming and lowered my head down
That's when i asked her, " Do you like me better when i write about a love that went wrong? "
She looked at me again with a wistful frown
Telling me, " Ruby you know me so well
you've always been there the many times i fell
Please don't tell me you've finally got over being sad, could it be you've found serenity? "
That's when i began to say the prayer and found i understood the words were written for someone like me
I watched my muse tuck her quill inside her little tote bag
She then turned and looked deep within my eye's, begging me to feel like an old worn out rag
I knew if she left me, no more could i write about hurt and frazzled fray
So i put on a CD and listened to George sing, ' He stopped loving her today '
For just a brief moment i saw my muse smiling as she went quietly on her merry way
I knew without a doubt she'd return when old memories resurfaced again another day.
More by this Author
Even though I wasn't there, my eleven sisters and brothers told me stories of their time on an old farm and their good times. Their memories of olden times.
This is poetry about two young lovers who spent most of their time on the beach until the storms of life blew their love into the sea.
I was watching the sunset on a drab, gloomy day, missing my hummingbird's who had already flown South, and watching my squirrel, Squiggley store pecans for the winter when my muse took flight.