Slave of the Muse:A Challenge Poem
The Spirit of the Muse has possessed my soul, Over thirty years it has taken hold And enslavened me beyond my control.. Pen engraved in gold In a trance sit I many a day and night The Muse dictating inscently what I must write. Like a golem I mark the parchment In my best penmenship I mark the words in red, blue and black pigment Obedient always to the Muse. My master watches, pelting me with a golden whip If I dare pause He orders me to strip for him And to kiss his lips.. Filling me with his inspiration. My craft has become my life's vocation.. Through the years I've collected a menagery Of poems written with my heart's blood and sweat Yet through the years of deep obsession I still sit in this dungeon producing mass poetry And I long to see the reward of my labor yet, Though I must admit inspite of all this slavery I hold no grudge or regret, Years from now when I am gone, I leave the world a legacy! Mary Gonzalez (c)2002Poets are grateful slaves of the Muse! Written March 4th, 2002 © on Mar 04 2002 04:35 AM PST, Mary Aris 0 • 9
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"The Spirit of the Muse has possessed my soul, ..."