January 11, 2014 
a Muse with Life
began her tale,
intentions true
and accent gael,
pure of heart
and vigor hale,
certain kindness
would prevail.
a Muse brought Joy
to tales told,
before and after
young and old,
improving that
which did unfold,
gilding stories
mining droll.
a Muse found Love
when Sun was high,
the vast unmet
now met inside,
> electric pull <
and undenied,
a light that burned
into a Night.
a Muse felt Fear
and losing faith,
she lost what’s dear
to save her face,
a fool’s course
since pride is fake,
—and crippled Muse
—and altered Fate.
a Muse knew Grief,
as days grew long,
lost all Belief
that good was strong,
Reaper thief
and loved ones gone,
Turning leaf—
—remixing Song.
a Muse & Death
then trod the path,
matching step
without a map,
and though she feared
the hooded chap,
aMusing was–
the final laugh.
©Karen Robiscoe
Charron's Chatter 
Reblogged this on thisoldtoadblog.
Chris! U r so great! here…lemme add a coupla’ more X’s to that moniker of yours…some O’s, too.
M-W-A-H!
(aka: XXXx’s and Ooooo’s 😉
You have made my day. truly. 🙂
Oh the poor Muse 😥
well, we are all the Muse–at least a version of her. We all experience those things….
but yes. Wahh.
😉
Yes we do
Very clever title and even more the poem. You’ve outdone yourself Karen. 😉
right on, Kevin. As a fellow Muse, you know those words are loft for the laterals…wings, that is…:)
Have an awesome weekend!!
lol you also!
HL=huge like, babe and congrats… 🙂 have a peaceful Sunday and a formidable week! my very best & cheers, Mélanie
thank you, Melanie! A new acronym…
🙂
I hope your week is formidable, too!
Reblogged this on Charron's Chatter.