For Life

Raven's Quill

Within the darkness lies a poet’s sight
The special something that is his delight
That something perfect dwells inside his mind
It stirs with his words as he takes his breath
And on the page his thoughts slowly unwind
A gentle breeze or a tempest in ink
This ink is like blood exposing his soul
And as he writes the stars begin to blink
A guiding light as his words become whole
It is then that his muse is in control
To her will his deepest thoughts are resigned
For it is for her his verse he must write
The muse always within making him think
And poet is hers now until his death

 

 

©JG Farmer 2018
Form: Ivorian Sonnet 104

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