Sweet Muse

Sing, my muse, for you have quieted yourself far too long.
Blank papers lay in your wake,
scattering your thoughts and stilling your tongue.
Into my brain,
your words will seep,
and across the paper,
my pen shall run,
putting words to your smile, your tears
and your furrowed brows.
Oh sweet muse, please whisper your imaginations
into my ear while the sky grows heavy with stars.

2008