The Death of the Muse
She was a pretty muse
As far as muses go
He said she had about her
An incandescent glow
There was a certain mischief
He saw there in her eyes
And though he couldn’t touch her
He’d tasted paradise
She made his mind to wander
Down honeysuckled lanes
A few moments with her
And he’d forget all his pains
She had such rosy lips
Cascading raven hair
And though he could not touch her
He felt her presence there
She made him feel euphoric
She knew how to beguile
Was it the words she spoke?
Or the magic of her smile?
She was a pretty muse
As far as muses go
But it did seem of late
That she was losing her glow
The muse sat and wondered
At what had dimmed her light
In playing hide and seek
Was she lost of his sight?
She thought to seek him out
When to her great surprise
She found him much bewitched
By another Muse’s eyes
At once all of her sparkle
Her charm and beauty too
Blew away with the wind
She pondered what to do
The muse just simply smiled
Blew a kiss towards his face
She changed into a fairy
Flew away without a trace
At times when the dear poet
Sit downs to write a rhyme
He finds the words are lost
And he gets lost to time
He wonders about the muse
And in the flicker of candle light
He can’t see the little fairy
Just sparkles in the night
The heavy hearted poet
Is out of poetic tune
He killed his inspiration
He killed her off too soon
But then again the fairy
Smiles at him from afar
She knows her work is done
Now she’s just a guiding star.
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2013
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