My Muse Erato
Whenever a Melancholy Moon,
Radiantly brimful, looms low,
And gilds the tops of the trees,
The hills, the flowing streams,
and languorously reclining lakes,
My Muse appears to me
from nowhere like a dream,
Like a flash of inspiration
to a muddled mind.
She glides towards me like
an elusive wreath of smoke
And gathers me in her
delicate arms like a silken robe,
Hovering around me
like the perfume of roses.
She appears as an inspiring
source of fantasy and vision,
Like the magnificent Northern lights
displaying kaleidoscopic draperies
in the polar nights,
Like the spectacular rainbow burst
after an intense shower,
Like a shooting star,
Like a blessed apparition.
I take her gently, gratefully,
in an ethereal embrace,
As you would take
honey from a beehive!
(*The Muse of lyric and love poetry-
one of nine Greek goddesses)
"It's all about the Moon" contest by SKAT A
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