The Lost Muse
I sit down and pick up the pen
To serenade my lost muse again,
There are vague images I seek
And while consistencies are bleak,
I still enjoy searching the cause
The words in which the moments pause
And in that sudden clarity,
I look for my epiphany…
My muse is gone, been called away
And while the world will keep at bay
The emptiness in rush of noise,
Drown out that vacant seat disguised
Marked in reservation and stamped,
I wait out on the porch, encamped,
For when my muse is back again,
The world of words will let me in.
For on my own I have no key,
Wherever could my lost muse be?
‘Tis the Return of the Kooky Cookie! I’m baaaaack! And I have muffins! Who missed me?
I’ve been having an odd week of sorts, uphill, downhill, in and out the roundabout, up the Faraway Tree and there and back again. Buuut, I’m back. blessedly in one solid (if rather overlarge) piece, and that’s good enough for a sunday morning, isn’t it? Although I might add, being in one piece isn’t good enough physically. You need all the pieces of your mind to come together too, and I’ve scattered some of them here and there and everywhere in the past few days. (Both oars not in the water? Right you are!)
So! One of my most introspective and contemplative parts is somewhat deficient, what with one of my muses being on vacation. I’ve still been writing, but not writing what I want to write, so that satisfaction at the end of the page is missing still. It’s a slippery slope without his guiding light, my lil Jack o’ lantern that he is, crooked grin and all. So if you find me writing about sparkly vampires or teeny bopper werewolves (*shudder*), feel free to wrap me in a straitjacket and toss me off the nearest cliff. You’ll be doing us both a favor, mate.
Here muse, muse, muse. I’ve got a muffin for you!
Hugs and nomnoms,