Muse Poems | Examples of Muse Poetry

I made it to the edge of thought with consciousness ablaze I escaped the fire but not the heat all memory a haze I just got out when fate attacked from inside burns the past To leave me orphaned without a home my legacy — in ash (Dreamsleep: June, 2025) ...

Continue reading...

My love, I looked through the mirror, and you were on the other side. Your words mirrored some of mine, you used a lot of the words I said and that was a shock. You said I was your muse, that I helped you out of a stupor. That you were so happy that I...

Continue reading...

Somber light slants through the window. The sun lazes behind blankets of clouds. Grey skies are all I see. A tranquil yet almost uneasy atmosphere rests over everyone. No one dares to shrug it off. Today is a day for soft musing and true thoughts, it's sobering and uplifting at the same time. There will be no more doubts by the end...

Continue reading...

Secrets cling to the shadows, the light Softly glowing, flowing against a soft night While the melancholy dreams breathe, stirred By the distant thunder, the storm’s heard Revealing the silence, the story so inviting Soundless images of hope I keep writing! ...

Continue reading...

I want to write a poem today but the wood insists on ritual— Pledge and patience, lemon oil, a soft cloth circling what must be remembered. The coffee table’s judging me. The hutch has turned authoritarian. Even the banister is giving me splintery side-eye, and the bureau just rolled its drawers. My muse, naturally, has curled up in the dust bunny beneath the credenza, refusing to come...

Continue reading...

There is something just so incredibly magical about nighttime. The quiet hours and the dark sky by the moon made sublime. Whispered words travel through the gloomy atmosphere, Nothing is more real than a nighttime word, a sigh, a tear. The night, with its black cloak and soft embrace, shields us from it all And it allows us to...

Continue reading...

The cafe burnt alive as soon as you Set your patent leather boot inside And walked right into this unknown, Mysterious yet familiar world Of witty writers and pious poets With their poetic pens. My tantalizing timid eyes Met your musically amused eyes, And I heard a symphony unsung, Strange, how can you be just a stranger, When your eyes can speak so...

Continue reading...

Verse 1 There’s a rusted-out old steeple Off Highway 31, near my dad’s old trailer I left that place with shaking hands, Swore I’d never kneel again— But silence pulls like the wind before a storm. Verse 2 I try to keep my eyes open But the world keeps shifting tones, The faces I once laughed with Fade like echoes down a payphone— Still, I hear...

Continue reading...

Truth is known when ego is shorn but what’s imbibed, we can’t pass on, for how may sunlight be revealed, to the deluded who shun dawn? Soul’s light within is not revealed, unless our heart’s resolve is steeled, discarding dark desires mundane, to embrace power God does wield. Pitter patter of falling rain, moments when fears are to rest lain, entwines soul with the universe, freeing...

Continue reading...

For  Anoucheka Gangabissoon's My Inner Voice Told Me Poetry Contest 8 June 2025 A whispered knowing, deep within my soul, My inner voice, a guide both soft and sure, It speaks of paths that lead me to my goal, And cautions against traps I might endure. When doubts arise, and shadows start to creep, It shines a light upon the truthful way, Revealing...

Continue reading...

The muse has no hushing. My voice needs no shushing, A baby boomer scribbling, At my brain, muse nibbling, Cool to create, Thoughts i relate, While world is yawning, I write in the morning, Verbose or terse, My muse here in verse!...

Continue reading...

She walks where day and night entwine, A whispered breeze through aging pine, With eyes that hold the fading light, And secrets born from end of night. A veil of roses, oud, and rain, A kiss of warmth, a touch of pain— She lingers soft on lover’s skin, Like velvet shadows tucked within. No dawn can cage her amber soul, No noon can grasp...

Continue reading...

There are many things I would rather do Trixie, my muse is tapping me like a tattoo artist’s needle She is annoyingly insistent, brazen and persistent I decide to ignore her; I have other hobbies The poem she wants to write floats in the air of my art studio I throw fluorescent orange paint onto a canvas and ignore her She...

Continue reading...

Who pens the words we express, displaying state of undress, of pure heart’s childlike intent, in vibrational descent? From the tranquil stillness point, the light of Self does anoint, our pulsating, vibrant heart, to create a work of art. Vibes interpreted by mind, which is with our soul aligned, conjures then a gentle breeze, penning love poems with ease....

Continue reading...

Whoosh, the wind through olive trees, tugs my dress with gentle ease. It brushes neck like whispered breath, soft and quiet, light as rest. Flit-flit, white butterflies fly, soft as ash, then say goodbye. Chirp-trill, birds sing wild above, messy songs full of love. Buzz of heat on sun-warm skin, wind curls slow around my shin. Agolli spoke of roots and rain, but I was born...

Continue reading...