My muse is indescribable
because. . .
I've never seen him,
or is it 'her'
with a very, very gruff voice?
He plays on my age,
and taunts me with what
I think are memories
of my sibling-less childhood;
sends me scampering after Google,
in an effort to discover
something about the war service,
in WWI, of a father who died
when I was only three.
Yes, I'm a baby boomer from WWI!
But just this week
he played the worst ever
of his tricks on me,
making no effort to stop me
writing a poem of twenty lines
and then,quietly, watching me
submit it for a contest which
I, too late, discovered
had clearly asked
for only twenty words.
Although,
when I come to think about it,
it wasn't really his fault, but mine.
I'm told that, at my age, I should
expect to get these mental aberrations.
A contest entry
- Introduction to your muse by Tattboyspet.
450 points, ended July 9, 2008, 15 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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Hehe love this, a superb take on the prompt. All the best in the contest
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spelling: somehing; waasn't
lol - I adored this one! have to admit though, my memory is that bad that I dare not even attempt going the path of lies: I would never remember what I lied about!!!!
- methinks it was not the muse's fault for the mistake, rather the fingers that wouldn't listen to him/her 
thank you for your entry
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Thankyou for pointing out the spellings. I was halfway through doing my spell check when I must have inadvertently pressed the 'send' key and everything disappeared from my screen. I reckon he was standing behind me at the time.
Best wishes from 'down-under'
Shenton
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