My Muse

This mistress She is hard to please
Although as muse She does incite
And poet with words finds the keys
Convenes demand to soul ignite

Slavish to her every whim
Tho faithless to your charm sincere
Each rhyme provided as some flim
To scansions desperate engineer

Alliteration of your best
Produces only ooohs and aaahs
When you have offered blood impressed
to quill of pen and parchment scarred

Each drop of life ‘tho ruby hued
must bleed across the poets page
The reckoning for words imbued
is kiss of vampire which must be paid?

For gold or silver will not buy
the pleasure She’ll bestow on you
Tis soul itself you must supply
to meaning found; expression new

She draws you in with promises
Of words descriptive to your need
And when your poem enthuses
Her payment’s met by each words bleed

Each tear a diamond slip of ice
Down face of poets firm revered
New forms of meaning piquant spice
To Bard who has long persevered