There she stood,
staring blankly into space,
looking at the mountains,
that lined the empty grassland,
at a distance,
her ebony colored hair,
flying,
as the cool breeze
brought a smile to her berry red lips,
There she sat on the bare rock,
bringing life to it
by her mere presence,
her loveliness spreading an aura
of perpetual happiness,
here I am,
sitting at a distance,
unable to touch her,
only paint her picture,
as I fall hopelessly in love
with the muse who stands at a distance.
{I wrote this poem as an ode to several poets who I admire. This one is about a poet and his muse. )
staring blankly into space,
looking at the mountains,
that lined the empty grassland,
at a distance,
her ebony colored hair,
flying,
as the cool breeze
brought a smile to her berry red lips,
There she sat on the bare rock,
bringing life to it
by her mere presence,
her loveliness spreading an aura
of perpetual happiness,
here I am,
sitting at a distance,
unable to touch her,
only paint her picture,
as I fall hopelessly in love
with the muse who stands at a distance.
{I wrote this poem as an ode to several poets who I admire. This one is about a poet and his muse. )
Oh, lovely. This is how I feel about the poet/writer I admire. Always wanted to meet her, but destined to admire her from afar. Thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteYou have brought to life a poet's pondering.
ReplyDeletei dig your last line - it really puts it all together
ReplyDeleteGreat write! I love the vision of the muse "bringing life...by her mere presence" , transforming everything. That elusive muse "who stands at a distance". Awesome response to the prompt!
ReplyDeleteI love your flow, and that image, "sitting at a distance,unable to touch her,only paint her picture." I really feel like that
ReplyDeletemmm. I like how you see her environment as well as her, how you enter the space in your words. That is how I travel with poets/muses and spirit guides like Mary Oliver and Sherry Blue Sky.
ReplyDeleteLoved the picture and the way you have captured forlorn desire. Very nice.
ReplyDeleteWe all need one. I married mine.
ReplyDeleteA lovely muse poem!
ReplyDeleteBeautifully expressed.
ReplyDeleteReally nice that you found a muse at that age and one who influenced you so well.
ReplyDeleteEileen
Hahha thank you so much :)
DeleteNo ma'm hahah I fortunately/unfortunately do not have a muse. It's all pretty much based on observations.
what a lovely poem!
ReplyDeletelove the influence of the poet to his muse. you described it quite beautifully!
stacy lynn mar
http://warningthestars.blogspot.com/
My goodness, I came back for another read after your lovely comment on my blog and see from your sidebar you are a high school student. WOW! You write so well. I began writing in grade nine - my advice to you is: never stop. Even when you are super-busy in university, even when you have relationships and, maybe, one day, children, when you have a job and there are not enough hours in the day - write all the way through it. When you are my age, you will be able to read your whole life, and remember:)
ReplyDelete