The Hibernating Muse

Delightful muse, end for me your dormancy in twenty-three. Inside myself the churning gusts of winter thoughts on paper must be released, un-bosomed, loosed. So, wake up beloved muse! Continued sleeping's pure abuse upon an old soul shut away inspired by plenty more to say. Fill my head with words alive such that my poet heart derives the pleasure of a well said thing as metaphors and verses sing. Come to me in dead of night and open up my third eye’s sight. This world’s in need of better moods that forms poetic often soothe. 1/5/2023