the muse

I don’t know where the poetry has gone
the two of us are like a secret forest now
she – the muse – hiding in no man’s land
and I – the mortal – wandering in Sussex Downs
desperate to get home
surely she can hear
all the things are mocking me
they have raised their voices in unison
as if there was no poetry
but mere objects to tackle
such life
is unbearable for the both of us
and the muse – she knows
please come back
take me home even now
before the shadow cast me into yet another stone
to become as hard

About elizadavies

Being a human is an awesome thing. Being able to name the awesomness of it all - sends my mind veering dangerously and beautifully ... Naming the Invisible is my life long challenge ... words which live, describe life and eventually impart life ...
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