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
Copyright © Janis Medders Tobechi | Year Posted 2023
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