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Poetry: My muse

• 1 of 12

  by Kat Apf

  Didn't Even Think to Look Back
  
  
  It was in checkout lane six.
  She was hovering beside me,
  whispering quiet words
  of inspiration

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• 2 of 12

  by Carol Gioia

  My muse does not appear
  by my invitation,
  but shows up unexpectedly
  bearing inspiration.

  Wandering in and out
  the corridors of

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• 3 of 12

  by Kimberly Richardson

  
  

  Standing.

  I fall within the building's shadow, graced to just be alive.

  Is it, then, my lot in life

  To be consumed so willingly?

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• 4 of 12

  by P. M. Montgomery

  In my mind's eye I see him;

  Lazing on some distant shore,

  Warm breezes caressing his cinnamon skin

  As my calls he chooses

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• 5 of 12

  by Cyn Bagley

  Conception

  My muse wraps his long-raven hair
  in leather bands, wraps the hair that
  feathered 'cross my ivory skin.

  "Leaving

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Poetry: My muse