Afraid of Trixie My Muse
Yesterday I sat down to do a bit of reading, light
Trixie, my muse said you are causing me a blight
All she ever wants to do is paint, cartoon or write
I knew I could cause an enormous artistic fight
I put my fingers out of my muse’s persnickety sight
afraid of her sword and willingness to maim or smite
She gets angry at the tiniest irritation or slight
Truthfully, Trixie often gives me more than a tiny fright
My fingers were crossed until they turned almost white
I am not saying her ideas are not sound or bright
But she seems to get her own way, afternoon, day and night
even when I stand up to her with my five-foot two full height
If she were a maiden and I was a ferocious knight
I might have a say or a tiny bit of power or might
but she is meticulous and mean for a tiny muse, a mite
So, I quickly say my piece, and then let my legs take flight.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2025
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