Kissed by a Muse

Fair maidens beware! Muse appears in many guises. Sometimes he’s a fairy-tale prince. Fairy tales don’t always end happily ever after.

You should have left me sleeping, Muse,
secure in my sanctuary
behind castle walls too thick to penetrate,
portcullis down and drawbridge raised,
safe from love’s illusions and the pain of loss.

But you assailed the battlements
and overpowered the fortress guards.
Why did you slash a path through thorny briars,
where fragrant roses once had bloomed?
Why did you climb the rugged tower to my refuge?

How long did you watch me dreaming
before you brushed my lips with yours
and aroused my dormant senses with your touch?
My last defences stripped away,
you entered, stirring passion long-forgotten.

Your kiss inspired a million words.
Beneath your spell, I knew no bounds.
Poetry born of relentless longing,
each syllable wantonly moaned
with each caress, each willing surrender.

But, Muse, you will never read my poetry,
nor listen to the songs I wrote.
Where have you gone? Why do you stay away?
My words tumble into silence.
Desolate, I seek refuge once again.

Torn and tossed on glowing embers,
my words are ashes on the pyre,
obsolete — devoid of meaning since you left.
Why did you have to wake me, Muse?
Cruel lover, you should have left me sleeping.