SHE IS MY MUSE
She is my muse
The gentle pause after a long thought
The spark that breaks the silence
When words refuse to come.
Her face
A stanza unfolding
Her body
A sonnet in graceful motion.
There’s something in her smile
Like dawn’s first light
After the darkest night
Clearing the fog in my mind.
She is my muse
My refuge when all is lost
When language falters and falters
She is the opening line of every poem I write.
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