The Death of the Muse

She was a pretty muse As far as muses go He said she had about her An incandescent glow There was a certain mischief He saw there in her eyes And though he couldn’t touch her He’d tasted paradise She made his mind to wander Down honeysuckled lanes A few moments with her And he’d forget all his pains She had such rosy lips Cascading raven hair And though he could not touch her He felt her presence there She made him feel euphoric She knew how to beguile Was it the words she spoke? Or the magic of her smile? She was a pretty muse As far as muses go But it did seem of late That she was losing her glow The muse sat and wondered At what had dimmed her light In playing hide and seek Was she lost of his sight? She thought to seek him out When to her great surprise She found him much bewitched By another Muse’s eyes At once all of her sparkle Her charm and beauty too Blew away with the wind She pondered what to do The muse just simply smiled Blew a kiss towards his face She changed into a fairy Flew away without a trace At times when the dear poet Sit downs to write a rhyme He finds the words are lost And he gets lost to time He wonders about the muse And in the flicker of candle light He can’t see the little fairy Just sparkles in the night The heavy hearted poet Is out of poetic tune He killed his inspiration He killed her off too soon But then again the fairy Smiles at him from afar She knows her work is done Now she’s just a guiding star. Eileen Manassian Ghali