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!