His handsome face beholds a frown
He strives to capture thoughts within
His pen is poised to write them down
If only he could just begin

Continuously he looks my way
To search my face through painted mask
His brown eyes filled with passions sway
For I am muse to this poets task

I watch with covert sideways glance
From framed confine, my book held high
His upturned face in searching stance
I dare not let him catch my eye

My heart beats fast as furrowed brow
Is turned once more to seek my gaze
'twould be remiss to falter now
When poet's art is near ablaze

I yearn to see what is his prose
To view his written art refined
And wonder if the piece composed
Would show that love be truly mine

But thus like this, our love must stay
My role, to sit in windowed state
Whilst Poet gazes every day
Beyond this we cannot contemplate.