The Muse.

Sometimes when the muse comes

It is not very amusing,

It often comes when I cannot write.

As I step into the shower

The muse flows down with the spray,

And if I try to remember as I step out

The words seem to flow away

With the water.

As I drive, the muse overtakes me,

Smiling and gesturing,

Shouting “You can’t catch me!”

There are then the times

When I can catch the muse

And we live in harmony.

It is always with me

As I walk by My River,

Where the words can be found,

As I stop and put them to paper.

The muse can be teasing,

Where the words are just out of reach.

And it keeps pulling them away,

Only to release them with a smile.

Yes, the muse can be frustrating,

But I am glad that it is there,

As without it,

These words would not be written.