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Angel Muse

Updated on August 6, 2011

 This is  the first poem that I wrote for my friend.  It is the partner, and the friend of 'Angelica'.

 

No wall so strong; no masonry robust;

No wooden door so stout; no heart so sturdy;

No soul inviolate that passion, requiring entry,

Can be repulsed. 

Somewhere, somehow, a Muse entered my life.

A Muse, perhaps; an Angel of delight;

An Angel and a Muse, became my obsession

And for a space threw from my mind, my reason.

She entered like a spectre, an apparition

Gently offering friendship and an ear

In which I hesitantly poured my thoughts and words

But words became intense,

And when my heart burned with verse and prose,

I also saw a mirror of my soul and heart

And yes, my body, for all were in deep tune.

She devoured each word I wrote and spoke.

She fell into the rhythm of my verse and soul.

She devoured my words… my soul.

Within that rhythm beat our hearts… as two… as one.

She was my Muse. She was my Angel. She was my Lover

She, my Muse.  She, my Angel.  I, her Lover.


And then… bleak day, she drew herself back from me;

Rejected all we’d felt and hoped and shared,

Accused me of not being so substantial,

“You are a phrase,” she said, “an ornament; unreal”.

For in her deepest soul, a whisper from her spirit

Unkindly told her what she loathed to hear,

A love like ours was more than she could bear.

She could not cope with me, the me substantial.

Her concept of me was as of a shade,

She could not undertake me as I was….

For I was more than that. I was much more

Than eloquence, for I have substance.

 

 

Despite her thinking of me only;  

Despite insane obsession of my self,

Despite my invasion of her dreaming,

Her dreaming, both sleeping and awake;

Despite the laughter, passion and shared intimacies

Despite bleak days when nought lifted her spirit…

Nothing! Nothing more than thoughts of me;

Despite her broken heart when we weren’t together;

For anger at foolishness was no stand in for
The burning pain of distance from her lover...

 

... despite all this, she said she didn't love me,

And closed her heart and soul to me forever.

Regretting every intimate word that we’d exchanged.

 

And yet, my Muse encouraged me to write…

My distant Angel begged me to continue;

To put my thoughts; my heart; my soul,

Not only onto paper, but to share and read and speak

Those thoughts, that all may hear.

 

And so I wrote and filled each word and phrase

With thoughts of her, and how she filled my heart

And wrote with loving care how, in my eyes

She shone and shimmered, a spectre of delight.

And then, at last, when I had written,

And when my heart and soul filled every page,

I brought them to her and I offered,

Offered trembling, all my thoughts.  

 

She stands there in her room, in evening sunlight

Reaching out her hand and takes the sheaf

The space between us is electric…

Her fingers brush my hand; the silence roars.

She moves towards the window, the light around her like a halo

Halo of evening sunshine… A halo round my Angel.

 

And now she lifts those thoughts up to her eyes

 Lifts them to her lovely eyes

And reads what there I’ve written.

And while she reads, I watch, scarce breathing;

And see her sweet mouth traces the sounds but silently

I see her lips move, and the tiniest flicker of a smile

Creases the tended skin beside her mouth;

Brings the faintest blush to her dear cheek.

And do I see? Do I see?  The sweetest tear begin to form?

The vaguest hint of moisture on her lids, her lash…

And then I know that in my verse, she reads some words I’ve used

Some words that bring to her a happy thought…

A memory of when we met, perhaps

A mirror of a day we spent alone… alone together.

And with the sight of those red lips, that mouth, that cheek

Those tender eyes, my heart swells so within my chest and tears,

Pure manly tears of love burst forth and I am once again

Her knight, her slave, her lover… her beloved.

 

 

This poem has a partner.

This poem has a partner. It was written with two people in mind, Each poem should be able to stand alone but if you would like to read the other one, go to Angelica.

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    • profile image

      Sunnie Day 7 years ago

      Sounds very true to life ..A picture of who we think someone should be but is very different in time.But then sometimes we have rose colored glasses on and will not see the truth if it hit us in the bum! :)

    • Twilight Lawns profile image
      Author

      Twilight Lawns 7 years ago from Norbury-sur-Mer, Surrey, England. U.K.

      Sunnie, you are right. She backed off because she had lionised him and expected him to be as magical as his words. He was a writer. and wrote beautifully... so she attached herself to a bit of a thug. Someone she could understand.

    • profile image

      Sunnie Day 7 years ago

      I believe this is my favorite so far..it is deep..and I could feel the loss. I think she had a picture of what she wanted but was too scared to act on it completely so she backed away.Thus pulling someone in and hurting them deeply.

      Thanks Ian..this was really good.

      Sunnie

    • Twilight Lawns profile image
      Author

      Twilight Lawns 7 years ago from Norbury-sur-Mer, Surrey, England. U.K.

      Thank you Theseus for taking the time to read it. I appreciate your kind comments. If you liked it, perhaps you could try 'Angelica' which was written about the same relationship.

    • theseus profile image

      theseus 7 years ago from philippines

      "And then… bleak day, she drew herself back from me;

      Rejected all we’d felt and hoped and shared,"

      This lines really struck me..aww..must have hurt.. Beautiful hub. Keep on writing. :)

    • gothicpoet profile image

      gothicpoet 7 years ago

      are you sure it was her in denial? i dont think so, i think she was quite public and quite honest about it all

      scarred?

      how about fearful for ones life when the mans x lover makes comments of setting them on fire with gasoline but he continues SPEAKING TO HER?

      what sort of scarring is this?

      who is the one more ruined?

      i think she is more then scarred

    • Twilight Lawns profile image
      Author

      Twilight Lawns 7 years ago from Norbury-sur-Mer, Surrey, England. U.K.

      Both, I'm afraid. It almost ruined him, emotionally as she constantly approached him on the Internet, read his stuff; retreated; went into denial. But he came out the other end scarred but alive... but she? I don't know.

    • gothicpoet profile image

      gothicpoet 7 years ago

      hmm which was mixed up? which one?

      i doubt it was the angel...

    • Twilight Lawns profile image
      Author

      Twilight Lawns 7 years ago from Norbury-sur-Mer, Surrey, England. U.K.

      She was a very mixed up individual. She changed her mind about everything in her emotional and love life, on a regular basis. Thanks for dropping by and taking the time to read my hub. I see you're new. Welcome to hubpages, I hope you like it as much as I do. I'm relatively new and I've found that people have been so kind ad helpful.

    • gothicpoet profile image

      gothicpoet 7 years ago

      You mentioned they said they did not love you, are you sure you were behaving 100 percent to be loved like how you wanted to be?

      Are you really sure she does not love you, or is merely placing up a wall so she is not going to be hurt further..

      always another side to each story told

      good poem and quite flattering to the person it was written for..but I am bound to believe she did not stop loving the individual but WANTED TOO...

    • Twilight Lawns profile image
      Author

      Twilight Lawns 7 years ago from Norbury-sur-Mer, Surrey, England. U.K.

      Shall we share a little secret, Christoph? I usually find poetry tedious also. But sometimes the words beg to be used in another way, and I love words.

      Not my own 'Angel Muse', but I had heard him cry and open his heart to me, and it just became part of my soul. He also is a writer, and confessed that he carried a copy with him wherever he went.

      Thanks for the kudos. I'll try to live up to that.

    • Christoph Reilly profile image

      Christoph Reilly 7 years ago from St. Louis

      Wow, Ian. This was superb. Such beauty here. As I was reading, I copied the following:

      And when my heart burned with verse and prose,

      I also saw a mirror of my soul and heart

      And yes, my body, for all were in deep tune

      ...and now that seems a disservice to all that was to come. I'll make a confession: I don't understand most poetry, and find it tedious to read...but not this. I was captivated. And who can't identify with it? Haven't we all had this experience, yet not so lovingly put into words. And this was for your friend, you say? Not your own "angel?" Remarkable, but not manufactured, surely.

      This broke my heart:

      ... despite all this, she said she didn't love me,

      And closed her heart and soul to me forever.

      Regretting every intimate word that we’d exchanged.

      It lead up to it beautifully, but the finality (or apparent finality,) that she "regretted." It all at once captures the sheer disbelief. How can this be possible?

      Well done, my friend. Kudos. You may convert me to poetry yet!

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