MissDulcinea

Muse of Mine

Sitting, waiting
nothing to lose,
pondering on
my missing muse.

Faint and fickle
without a trace
return to me
reveal thy face.

Long has it been
since she inspired,
this poet heart
is weak and tired.

Patiently here,
with glass of wine,
come back once more
o muse of mine.

Pretty, pretty please?