PoeticBiscuit

She Was My Muse

She was a muse,

And I was a writer.

Across oceans and mountains,

I traveled to find her.

She danced through the air,

Floating on mist,

Warming my heart,

With a butterfly kiss.

Every word that was spoken,

Felt like that of a song,

Voice of an Angel,

Could never go wrong.

Yes, she was my muse.

And I was a writer,

With a gasoline soul,

And she the lighter.

Explosive love

Sparks at a touch,

Electricity through bones,

Gave such a rush.

Yes she was my muse,

And I was her writer,

Nothing to lose,

Just filled with desire,

There she stayed,

For oh so long,

Not a word written,

Before she was gone.