Entreat Of The Muse

I’m lost in these pages,
I’m lost without you.

A siren song you were to me
As a child those many years ago.
Your voice rang out from inside
Promising that which I had never dreamed of.

I’m lost in these pages,
I’m lost without you.

Seductress; teacher; mother; friend,
All of these and more.
Available in retrospect only, are the reasons
I miss you so.

I’m lost in these pages,
I’m lost without you.

Effortless, the way you worked
And gave to me this thread I weave.
So easy was the gift granted,
A brush of lips; evanescent kiss.

I’m lost in these pages,
I’m lost without you.

For years beside me you travelled
Imparting those words that flow from this ink.
Yet like air that is breathed or water, drunk
I took your devotion for granted.

I’m lost in these pages,
I’m lost without you.

Then, in the midst of a typically dark night
You slipped away from my side.
Physically undisturbed I continued
Yet the mortal soul I harbour fares different.

I’m lost in these pages,
I’m lost without you.

So I undertook my hardest work
My greatest mission.
To humble myself in word and thought,
To beg you to come home again.

For what is a poet without his muse
But lost?

I’m lost in these pages,
I’m lost without you.