My Muse has a sense of humor.

She must, or she wouldn’t tease

With questions in the dark of night

That no one could answer with ease.

It’s the method she uses most often

To inspire my poets soul

And set me to writing madly

To reach an impossible goal

To write the perfect poem

To explain the meaning of life

Or to give others hope

In moments of trouble and strife.

To reach the hearts

Of people at the edge

Who are facing their ghosts

That their memories dredge

To the surface of their mind

And continue to haunt them

Because they can’t leave them behind

Or to force a sad man to smile

Over some silly verse

If nothing my muse

Wants me to be diverse

She wants me to pull the heart’s strings

Over the death of a butterfly

And get a healthy giggle

About a drunken dragonfly.

She feeds me on nectar

Made from wisdom, humor and love

So that I can produce

A poem fit for the Gods above.

Ó 2006 Bobbi Duffy