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Born To Muse

In the hammering rain of last night
I slept the best I have all week
I slept deeper, longer
than I have done for months

And would you guess who I should meet there
on the dream stools
at the dream bar
ordering her dream gin
sliding me a dream beer

Well, you come here often
I don’t have to ask
I’ve seen you here so many nights before
but it has been a while
(and I’ve missed you)

Back in real life; you live so freely
you’re pure inspiration to me
a scholar of your beauty
besotted by your confidence, your creativity

And when we went our separate ways
(did we ever really agree on one path anyway?)
after all those notebooks you drove me to fill
after the purest verses I fear I may ever spill

When we went our separate ways
you found yourself an artist
and now you’re all he paints
day drinking, or in the nude
the ways I still remember you
you... you were born to muse

Sitting on the dream couch
in the dream bar
your dream knees 
pushing against dream me

You... you were born to muse...

dreamsinfatuationmemorymuse

◄ Why Poems?

Crooked Café ►

Comments

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Tom

Sun 10th Nov 2019 10:34

Thank you Don, Kimberly, Kate and Vautaw for the comments and Branwell, Jeannot, and Hannah for the likes. I feel like I still need to fix up a few lines in this one but on the whole it says exactly what I wanted ?

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victoriavautaw@gmail.com

Sat 9th Nov 2019 04:27

Your muse is so close we can feel her! Good capture Tom. ?

<Deleted User> (22444)

Sat 9th Nov 2019 02:09

Tom, one of my favourite poems of all time. As if you have captured my own experience.

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Don Matthews

Fri 8th Nov 2019 22:12

So good Tom......

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