My Muses
I have several muses inside my mind.
One is Trixie, and she loves to rhyme.
Another, Pixie is somber and sad.
Wixie and Blixie just want to be bad.
As you may have guessed, Trixie is the ultimate muse queen.
She loves the rhyming cat contests, not being obscene.
These muses of mine want to be fed daily, and in their own way.
I am merely loaning them my typing hands, they are merry and gay.
A fifth muse, who shall not be named, pops up once in a while.
Angry, somber, dank and dour, she never gives chuckle or pretty smile.
When she begins writing, we recognize it is going to be free verse.
Corpses, howling things, grizzly bear killings, monsters and worse.
The truth is that since I began writing about three years ago.
My persnickety muses will not allow me to take my time or go slow.
They are opinionated and sassy, assertive, aggressive and mean.
We all stand back when She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named is the queen.
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