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