My Clever Muse
Often, my hands are tied when my clever muse
fills my mind with her thoughts that are profuse.
Sometimes my poetic intentions are lost in a line
because she's of the opinion hers are more divine.
She has a take-charge attitude, void of devotion
completely ignoring my heart's romantic emotion
Quite frustrating is she, but I dare not complain
or she'll give me nasty looks filled with disdain.
It's true, she's felt the ecstasy of love much more,
but I didn't know that she had been keeping score!
She slips into my visions and ideas when dreaming,
a feisty muse who resorts to outrageous scheming.
I should not allow her to tie my literary hands,
but she's a task master who makes harsh demands.
She tells me she has experiences as an old soul
so I should write what she renders. I've lost control.
She's off on a whim and thinks I can't do without her,
unknowing I write when she's away. To her I demur,
but I've sonnets, verse and Haiku inked from my pen.
If she knew she'd be madder than an old guinea hen!
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