Post by daena on Aug 21, 2005 11:04:01 GMT -5
This is a little poem I had placed at the Oaken Dawn, my homeland where I doth reside. I hope ye like it. 
Somebody's Muse
Where graceful stood the ancient oak,
that gently swayed on evening's breeze,
a voice that whispered as it spoke,
did draw me closer with its tease.
Beneath the shielding boughs he lay,
lost to thoughts of a museless kiss,
the sun upon his brow did play,
and in his solitude was bliss.
His feather tapped against his lip,
he spoke a verse or two in rhyme,
but after that his muse did slip,
far and away through distant time.
"Tell me erato, didst thou fly?"
I hear him whisper 'neath his breath,
"Hast thou forsaken me..and why?"
then slumped he down as if in death.
My heart was breaking from his plight,
and there my talents I did use,
to softly goad him back to right,
'twas fun to be somebody's muse.
Somebody's Muse
Where graceful stood the ancient oak,
that gently swayed on evening's breeze,
a voice that whispered as it spoke,
did draw me closer with its tease.
Beneath the shielding boughs he lay,
lost to thoughts of a museless kiss,
the sun upon his brow did play,
and in his solitude was bliss.
His feather tapped against his lip,
he spoke a verse or two in rhyme,
but after that his muse did slip,
far and away through distant time.
"Tell me erato, didst thou fly?"
I hear him whisper 'neath his breath,
"Hast thou forsaken me..and why?"
then slumped he down as if in death.
My heart was breaking from his plight,
and there my talents I did use,
to softly goad him back to right,
'twas fun to be somebody's muse.
