Grateful for all the warm messages and wishes. Doing much better now. Thank you.
Now, let’s get back to poetry………my muse deserves that.
My muse is a prism for when she writes I see the other side of light As I read her words I become an unraveling knot That slowly comes undone If she knew how she brightens my darkness with her inspiring poetry my muse would understand she is a prism illuminating a spectrum of love deep inside of me
My love everyone wants to know our little secret can’t they see you live in my poetry For every beautiful word every little inflection is an alluring reflection of you For I never seek inspiration in the birds or bees or classic Greek tragedies This poet writes by inclination Don’t tell anyone of this little revelation there’s no denying that it’s true our little secret My heart beats metaphors just for you
I would like to dedicate this to my muse, if I had one, but I don’t. So, I won’t. (Wink Wink)
bubbles of love
Soaking in an effervescent tub of your warm poetry tiny inspirations burst all around me Sparkling suds of passion cleanse my soul of the unsightly stains of dirty lovers and tainted memories For you are the nymphet of my passions a sensual siren of sonnets The warm bath that never goes cold Now I find myself submerged in your verses blissfully drowning in the fountain of your never ending bubbles of love
When I vow I will stop thinking of her it’s because I can’t stop When I say she is forgotten the truth is, she is not Look at me denying I am in denial and I don’t know where to start Perhaps I can deceive my friends but I will never fool my heart My brain continues to remember what my heart refuses to forget so I’ll continue to pretend I’m not haunted by the girl I haven’t met