My Illusive Muse

Oh, where have you traveled, my illusive muse? I do not see you in the shadows; yet I’ve paid my dues. Alert and alive, I am ready to pen the poem of my life. But words are not coming muse. You cause me great strife. Apology accepted, ready to forgive, my heart is open. I am waiting for enthusiasm; muse, your ideas are dope’n. Oh, where are you, my mysterious excited maestro self? I am your puppet, your minion, your fairy, your elf. Here I sit, not having any ideas at all of what to do. Do I write words of passion, humor, or something blue? I need my inspiration, muse. I truly need you! Without your presence, there is nothing I can do.