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”.