Posted in Luc-Bat

Sooze Muse

When prompts don’t inspire,
she comes to set fire under
me. Rolling like thunder,
she’ll eagerly plunder the vast
experience amassed
in my present and past. She’s kind,
but she’s never too blind
as to not see the bind I’m in
when the words don’t begin.
She’ll get under my skin until
I move my keyboard quill
and return to the thrill I feel
when my thoughts become real.
She will channel her zeal through me
until I’ve broken free,
touching the poetry inside.
She hasn’t denied desire
nor will she, as guide, retire.

© Susan Schoeffield

Written for the 8/3/14 prompt at Creative Bloomings to write a poem about my muse.

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