Where is my muse,
where's she gone, tell me why?
I cannot be without her,
or surely spirit dies...
I sigh, I try, I write, I stop,
and find I haven't even got
any water in this old well.
And where, oh where
did she go, pray tell?
I wish I knew, my soul
frets so...I do not know...
where would she go?
:::Sigh:::
Where is my muse,
I must surely find
the place she's gone now.
So much time has
come between...
Does she sit and wait in silence,
thinking that I've been
already, now gone?
I hear her song sporadically
in the distance, lost in dream...
Seeking her way back,
waiting for the purest stream,
to flow once again to my sea;
finding me.
© Deborah L. Kelly
Share
Print
Save
Follow
May Lu a.k.a. Sandie May Angel
Fear not for she has left, the example above tells me that, sometime she comes in many forms and guises that we do not understand.
Great write, she will once again soon tap you on the shoulder and words will flow ceaselessly from within.
warm hugs
Elga