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His Muse
| Open Poetry #7 |
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His Muse |
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Meadowmuse Member Elite
since 1999-12-27
Posts 3263 |
His MuseHe sits alone with pen in hand, gold lamplight stills the evening, and thinking on life's journey hence begins poetic weaving. When in the midst of contemplate, aglow with Heaven's light, anew from night's horizon falls a fragrant, flowing sight. A lovely maid of fairest form, enwrapped in satin strands, draws nigh and with her gentle touch pours peace into his hands. And with her kiss upon his brow from lips of fragile pink, contentment flows as whispered dawn drains sorrow from his ink. With lovely verse and sonnets penned, exhausted, now, he sleeps. And his muse takes leave as once again ...for her poet's heart, she weeps.  Claire |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Fantastic! |
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Denise
Moderator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-08-22
Posts 22648 |
Ahh, Claire, this is absolutely beautiful and touching! Very well done!  Denise |
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Mike Member Elite
since 1999-06-19
Posts 2462 |
I sit alone in still of night, in quiet contemplation, Reflecting on a life passed by, of trials and tribulation, When in the heavens I espy, Beyond the clouds afar, Sweet beauty of a summer rose, a wond'rous midnight star, Am touched upon by gentle bloom, Exquisite satin flower, As sings her songs of Terpsichore, in calm of evening's hour, A Muse alone in solitude, beyond Orion's belt, Strumming lute in love's reprise, sorrows ever felt, Soothing winds that come to me, from other side of time, And carry me to welkin blue, encaptured in her rhyme. Is it but a poet's folly, When he pens of melancholy? Tortured thoughts of now told sorrow, From the depths in pain does borrow, Odors of dark past to carry, Bitter fragrance; sting be wary, Crushed out from despairing soul, Unto the heavens shall extol, Haunting grace of throbbing verse, Conveys no moral, nor no curse, Echoes not a call to duty, Rather glows, ethereal beauty, For from the soul of odist tragic, Ever springs poetic magic, Celebrates love evanescent, Glories in heart's pain transcendent. [This message has been edited by Mike (edited 05-19-2000).] |
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Sudhir Iyer Member Ascendant
since 2000-04-26
Posts 6943Mumbai, India : now in Belgium |
Two words: Touched, blessed. Two more: Thank You Regards, Sudhir. Life is like a painting, That in an art gallery is left hanging, Though many come just to look at it, A very few actually come to enjoy it. |
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Meadowmuse Member Elite
since 1999-12-27
Posts 3263 |
Sunshine, Denise, Sudhir...I thank you, sincerely, for your kind and encouraging remarks. Mike, I thank you for the inspiration... How on this day can words impart what soils, inkblack, my poet's heart? How can another's pen express a weeping need for tenderness? How, on this day of sorrow's song when life itself seems dark and long can written phrases bring to mind that others can be gracious, kind, and painful moments, swept aside by poet's verse at eventide. I shan't pretend to understand how one can clasp another's hand but grateful, thus, I simply write a thank you for your words tonight and bid thee well in humbled tone a kinder man I've scarcely known. ~ Claire |
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Rex Allen McCoy Member Elite
since 2000-01-30
Posts 2863Sippin a Timmy's in London |
Your writings are a treasure Claire ... don't ever stop Rex |
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Angelwings Member
since 1999-08-27
Posts 222IL, USA |
What can I say? I must say that you are a wonderful inspiration. Your writing touches my heart. I pray that eventually as I age my writing will be able to be so wonderful as yours. I hope I can only be half as talented as you. Thank you |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
I'm with Sudhir, two words... You are ... GIFTED...GRACED. I am ... envy penned,(but grateful) *smile* EQUISTIE CLAIRE and so is Mikes reply and your reply (you didnt really believe me when I said I was only gonna say 2 words did ya)  later poetice princess jm |
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JamesMichael Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336Kapolei, Hawaii, USA |
I don't know if I believe in Muse's, I am pondering this spirit that I don't understand...but I do believe in Meadowmuse...whatever spirit is inspiring her is the finest in this land and I would rather look upon it as a gift that God has put into her hand. James |
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Sven
since 1999-11-23
Posts 14937East Lansing, MI USA |
Claire. . . I really don't know what to say except. . . This is simply beautiful. . . thank you. . . ------------------------------------------------------------ That which gives light must endure burning --Victor Frankl |
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Marge Tindal
since 1999-11-06
Posts 42384Florida's Foreverly Shores |
Claire~ I've not read a more ambrosial piece. Mike's response gently added to the thoughts you penned. Your reply to his was gracious. Your pen is saturated in the ink of wonder. Need I say something as banal as, I enjoyed this so much ? (even though I did) Love ya' ~*Marge*~ ~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~ noles1@totcon.com |
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Meadowmuse Member Elite
since 1999-12-27
Posts 3263 |
Rex, Angelwings, Janet, James, Sven, Marge...I wish I had time to reply to each of you this morning, because you have each been so kind in your gracious words about this piece. Please know that I am sincerely grateful for your encouragement. Knowing that you found something to like in this brings me a profound measure of happiness today. And I must agree wholeheartedly about Mike's work...isn't it absolutely Heavenly? Thanks to all... ~ Claire Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each other's eyes for an instant?......Henry David Thoreau |
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LadySofia Member
since 2000-05-16
Posts 238FL., USA |
Claire, that was a simply splendid one! I like your style; it grasps the reader and pulls you into its plot! ^_^ LadySofia That time of year thou mayst in me behold, When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang, Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruined choirs where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou see'st the twilight of such day, As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by-and-by black night doth take away, Death's second self that seals up all in rest. In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire, That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, As the deathbed whereon it must expire, Consumed with that which it was nourished by. This thou perciev'st, which makes thy love more strong, To love that well which thou must leave ere long. William Shakespeare |
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Meadowmuse Member Elite
since 1999-12-27
Posts 3263 |
Lady Sophia, I thank you for reading this and letting me know, in your kind way, how you enjoyed it. ~ Claire Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each other's eyes for an instant?......Henry David Thoreau |
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Michael
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666California |
This muse I know... personally touching piece, Claire, done with your usual touch of grace. Simply exquisite. Michael |
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