An Ode To My Muse of Another Time
My Muse of Another Time
~~~~~~~~~~
my muse
inspirations personified,
does one confuse?
my shoulder naked,
where once she sat,
no, she’s still there,
yet silent I fear.
even the power
of telepathy
gone.
Have I done wrong?
Her eyes of jet,
once I could read,
blank me.
She turns,
we both look
out beyond infinity.
I know not what
she seeks.
I scan, but tis
a void I see.
She turns again,
looks into my eyes.
I see India, Mumbai
a tear,
a longing, she begs
for me to say,
goodbye.
I do, and heartbroken,
I shed a tear,
and look.
Then I ask,
why?
Too late, she was
gone.
I looked again
into the beyond,
blew her a goodbye
kiss.
She will still be my muse,
for her spirit will always be
my inspiration to write
my
poetry!
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