My Muse

By Marissa Couchon

She talks to me, demands my attention
She helps me find the words to write
Walks me through the emotional tension
to help all the helpless to fight
 

I must help the weak be strong
because her voice I can't deny
I must right the unholy wrong
though sometimes, I admit, I try

She gently prods at me each day
sometimes it's visions of love
until I hear what she has to say
Sometimes it's a sign from above

She prods no matter when or how
so I can share with you today
Sometimes she demands I listen NOW
to what she wants me to relay

A poem, song or art
Today I guess she found a fuse
I won’t know until I start
Because she's restless, my lovely muse

She has no body, shape or form
She doesn't even have a name
She's not of the everyday norm
with only a title, what a shame

She comforts when visions shock
and always shows the safest path
she shows me to the safest rock
to keep me free of the riff-raff

She shows me what words to use
because of course she is my Muse