The Muse At Play Poem by Anita Atina
The Muse At Play
The muse of loneliness
Imparts the ability to feel
Like the ultimate outsider
The muse of anger
Grips our words with
Violence, beyond measure
The muse of love
Resonates joyously
Connecting the spirit
The muse of loss
Is a difficult teacher
Especially when it follows love
The muse of hope
Pulls us through
Darkness and despair
The muse of play
Tests our faith to risk
Being our uncorrupted selves
Each muse inspires us
To acknowledge that living a full life
Is reason enough for being here
A very captivating write, Anita. I really like the last verse. A full life is a happy life, what else could one want. Well penned poem.....10.. Richard
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/24/2024 5:44:42 AM # 1.0.0.1119
to the muse, who i love and hate with equal measure, but what do we do without it? love your poem