My Undecided Muse <br /> <br />My muse, she is a fickle bird <br />her songs stretch far and wide. <br />she often sings of many things <br />her real voice she hides. <br /> <br />With poet's beak, she pecks out words <br />that soothe or stir or stab. <br />Her silver tongue can move your soul <br />or cut you with its jabs. <br /> <br />She'll scratch and sketch away the day <br />with talons of graphite. <br />Her nimble feet are made for clay; <br />she sculpts throughout the night. <br /> <br />Her water color tinted plumes <br />are such a lovely sight. <br />She'll paint the oceans and the waves <br />with rays of spectral light. <br /> <br />With silken oils from downy hues <br />She'll paint her lover's face <br />and touch on every part of him <br />with subtlty and grace. <br /> <br />Sweet William sits among the phlox <br />as roses scent the air. <br />She works her garden masterpiece <br />with poise and savoirfaire. <br /> <br />Since every art appeals to her, <br />It's hard for me to choose <br />which craft is most appealing to <br />my undecided muse. <br /> <br />©2008 Dawn Slanker<br /><br />Dawn Slanker<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-undecided-muse/
