Dawning In the Desert

I woke up in a dry desert It was hot, it was stuffing and I was all alert Was I dreaming? Was I hallucinating? Then he came, claiming to be the one to foster my writing He was dressed as an Arab prince He had blue eyes, fair traits and he rode a horse He was the one because of whom life and its ways I did endorse My muse, at last, in human form, My muse, to whom I gave my whole being My muse, the only one who can melt me down with his subtle charm!