Tags

, , , , ,

Her soft sighs mist hazy the air and melt fluid the contours
that her saturating shadow fleshes in with bright colours.

Encroaching on the infolding gasps of her,
converging horizons all blend, bleed and blur.

Her whispers breathe voluptuous vacuity.
Her song voice sends shivers into shuddering hearts. She

articulates beauty’s sacrificial fabric. She speaks from the hearts
sated abundance into an exhausted and consummate stillness.

©Victor Buehring 2013

*****

All great poets need a muse, this much is a self-evident fact. From Keats to Ginsberg, the muse can be said to be of paramount importance to great works of poetic achievement. Victor presents his muse to us, and hers is an ancient presence. In the tradition of the romantic and metaphysical poets, “The Muse” invites the reader to bask in the presence of it’s subject and to find her in themselves.Inspiring, beautiful and beatific.

What are your thoughts on this poem? Leave them below.

Advertisements