From Smiling Lips of My Muse: A Poem
She lulls me into my poetic trance
her whisper not always easy to perceive
but enough for rhymes and their rhythmic dance
and for another human story to conceive.
Wondrous is the magic of words at their play
with mind not understanding from where they are springing
and what in me composes what they are to say
like free-flowing lyrics in a carefree singing.
What in me insists on expressing my soul
lining every vibrant and meaningful letter
like in a rehearsal of a theatrical role
stumbling at first, but then getting better.
If my Muse happened to be a human
she might look like Madonna nursing her child
or maybe like an angel disguised as a woman
with that mysterious Mona Lisa smile.
There she goes again waving her good-bye
while I read this last verse from her smiling lips
I smile back at her with a trembling sigh
ending yet another of my poetic trips.