14 October 2017

When I Have a Muse

By Bud Koenemund

For C.

When I have a muse, words fit perfectly;
Finding their places as if by magic,
While airy voices whisper secretly:
Poetry and prose midst verse emphatic.
I labor nonetheless, forging sonnets –
Shaping songs with odd old ends of language;
Bleeding ink on paper. This gift, honest
As it is, oft’ dooms my soul to languish;
Drifting through passionate desperation.
But, by your grace, confidence awakens:
Imagination invents expression,
And desire restores a faith shaken.
   Though form arouses creativity,
   ‘Tis thy genius which sparks my artistry.

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