Bad Muse
My minx of a muse
I swear she just uses me
For her own entertainment...
She gallumphs in my mind
Red leather clad, little horns
And more than one twinkle in her eye..
She whispers suggestions of what I should write
'I can't say that! ' I argue back
'why ever not? ' is her reply
I've watched her horns grow
Nurtured by her knowledge of my rebellious nature
'just go with our flow' is her persistent
Whisper
She reclines on the right hand side of my mind
Dutifully tickling the left with her tail end
Whilst we descend into the realms
Of naughty, grinning souls,
I can't help it
Just as..
She certainly can't help it
After all, birds of a feather
Always end up friends...
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