The Sleeping Muse
And while my muse lay fast asleep
she dreams of promises to keep
for songs of love neath moonlit skies
and sonnets kindling fiery eyes
She pictures poems yet to write
for autumn leaves and birds in flight
with verses of a blushing rose
that lead into cerulean prose
And with each whimper as she lay
a watercolor sage bouquet
takes form against a rainbow mist
another mural has been kissed
Yet, often she seems far away
and blue skies grow so cold and gray
and so I wait for her to wake
for inspiration then to take
My sleeping muse is not alone
so many seek their very own
And though she rests to start anew
just know she dreams for me and you
Copyright © Mike Gentile | Year Posted 2020
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment