Sonnet VII – Invoking The Muses
I call the daughters of Mnemosyne:
Sweet Erato, your kithara solo -
Dearest Euterpe, your aulos blow -
So my words won’t die in ignominy.
Inspire me with words of wit and charms,
That playfully dance like leaves on the streams.
Send them from above, like silver moonbeams,
To embrace my love with gossamer arms.
Like Icarus, I want to reach so high,
But I’m a simple man with simple rhymes
Who wants to enchant, inspire and amuse –
Hoping my loved one will longingly sigh,
And offer her heart to me for all time –
Which is why I’m invoking the Muses!
Categories:
kithara, hope, inspiration, longing, love,
Form: Sonnet
The Sun was on a rippling brook,
while the leaves on the trees,
by the wind were shook.
On the mossy floor,
a fire danced.
On the breeze a golden butterfly pranced.
Underneath a laurel,
lay a silver bow.
Beside it sat Apollo,
with his kithara in tow.
The Butterfly flew in the fire,
while Apollo strummed upon his lyre.
Categories:
kithara, imagination, inspirational, people, places,
Form: I do not know?