Miscarried Poetry

In the night I heard her voice bidding me to rise, I hadn't heard her in awhile but was not a bit surprised. I'd heard her often in the night. ignored her gentle pleas To help assist in birthing 'neath the towering poet trees. Sometimes she left me groaning as I tried to block her voice. "I am sleepy!!" I'd kept moaning, "Midnight sleeping is my choice!" Refused to play my part, help birth poem-child. Muse's heart I'd played the role of midwife And assisted muse's quest, But oft at night I promised That come dawn I'd do my best Those nights I gently slumbered With my muse silenced, encumbered For dawn I often tarried Many poems thus left miscarried Muse hung her head in silence, But one night , she fled away; I waited in the morning but... My Muse came not that day. My pleadings left unheeded, -- a long silence proceeded. and I languished in my heart For I had failed to play my part So sorry, I, now left forlorn............ Her midnight Poems too oft stillborn.