M. L. Kiser Poet Free verse

Muse Alive

No blood, no bone; 
no sinewy flesh can hide muse’s cries.

No muffler stifles; 
any trifles, of muse’s singing soul.  
A celebrant of life is muse alive.

Intonations paint, blue and pinkish skies.  
The greens and gold’s, 
of earth and time; 
how they revel in muse alive.

Muse upon her natural high; 
gifts us with her best. 
Expressions fly from muse alive.

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Caren Krutsinger April 19, 2019 at 2:31 AM Your muse is whirling and twirling in glorious colors today, my artistic friend! Beautifully done, throwing in music, in a show-offy way! M. L. Kiser April 19, 2019 at 4:39 AM Tee-hee...I have tried to calm her down but, she just won't let me. Thanks

Gershon Wolf April 18, 2019 at 9:40 PM Somehow, this enchanting poem summoned up, by way of curious juxtapositioning, Robert Frosts's, "A Minor Bird." Wutcha think?! :) gw M. L. Kiser April 19, 2019 at 4:41 AM Hadn't thought about that, really...I suppose you are right! Thanks

Eve Roper April 18, 2019 at 8:33 PM Great way to use your alterations on the great write , M.L. Have a great Easter. Hugs Eve ~`* M. L. Kiser April 19, 2019 at 4:41 AM Thanks Eve.

Connie Marcum Wong April 18, 2019 at 8:20 PM When the muse visits we cannot avoid her call, night or day, we must obey. Very lovely M.L. xxoo M. L. Kiser April 19, 2019 at 4:41 AM Yes, we must...whether we sleep or not. Thanks Connie.

Constance La France April 18, 2019 at 7:41 PM ML, wonderful write, yes we are at the mercy of our MUSE, I have written about my muse a lot also, she is part of my poetic soul and I love her deeply ~ M. L. Kiser April 19, 2019 at 4:42 AM I love mine too but, I don't love the rants...an over-rambunctious muse is a bit much to take. Thanks.