Missing: Muse

What has happened to my muse? It's not an easy thing to lose Yet, it seems that I've misplaced it Or, perhaps, I just erased it In some absent-minded funk (Lordy knows, I'm never drunk) Maybe it's just up my sleeve Waiting for a love's reprieve Or stuffed deep inside a pocket Hoping hopes a dream will rock it Or perhaps behind the couch Intent to end my writing slouch Lost in darkness 'neath my bed (A metaphor for "in my head") Drifting on a spring-tide mistral Or poised for ruin, in a pistol Gossamer as an angel's wing Or ebbing life, as sirens sing Dancing on a moonlit sea Bound for harbors, heavenly In the grasp of horrors, dim A last endeavor, chances, slim Perhaps it's waiting just inside The smile of a blushing bride Or in the twisted roots of trees A thousand angry honey bees Framed like all the grandest art Or served on silver, a' la carte The promise of a mustard seed Or in the depths of evil greed The fevered itch of aged scars Hot like dust, among the stars See, that's the beauty of a muse It hides inside whate'er we choose Imagination sews its seam - Bound only by how deep we dream So, it was hiding, from the start Within the chambers of my heart And if your muse is missing, too I'm sure that's where it waits ... For YOU! Written on May 10, 2020 Submitted on June 18, 2020 To the "Your Fave Poem 2020 Not Written For A Contest" Poetry Contest John Hamilton, Judge & Sponsor.