My muse comes around like a summer breeze
With flowing blonde hair
And a beautiful smile
She whispers in my ear, “It’s time to write
A word, a sentence, a stanza”
I cannot refuse
No. Not at this time
I accommodate her
Brush her flowing blonde hair
Adore her beautiful smile
And under her radiance
I write more than a word, a sentence, a stanza
I write her poems
For as long as she decides
To grace me with her presence

© Joseph Olsen