I am no priest
Of mercurial use
No poet
No fool.
I
Am
My
Own
Muse.
I light my own fuse.
I fight my own fight
I take to the river.
I see my own sights.
For you see
I am
Of my own design
Possessed and molded by the world divine.
Where a dream of me
A seaside view
A purple, blue hue
Is troubled by distance
Suffered by you.
I
am
my
own
muse.
I
am
my
own
muse.
And these
dreams you see
Are still of no use
But living with me
And nay an excuse.
A ghost, I think.
As if beneath
a sultry moon
A lover is waiting
A heart as carefree.
Thou spy?
Thou voyeur?
Thy genius recluse?
This makes little difference.
I
am
my
own
muse.
All of these poems and more can be found HERE in the anthology “A Cartographer”.