Where My Muse Walks

tree line, sun setting, tree branches, dusk
   My Muse

there’s a tingling in my fingers
my muse makes my fingers itch
they search for a pen before
I realize they’re even moving
words appear and spill out
blood, bile and vomit
on the page of my notebook
when I thought I was growing
daisies and roses
ghosts hover and wolves howl
I wanted hopping bunnies
but the wolf ate the bunny
and blood runs like a stream
down the path my feet are treading

Does your muse ever wander off into the forest?
Do you ever finish a poem and go – “Wait! That’s not what I was going to write!”

I have linked this post to Open Link Night at dVerse check out the other poems and poets here.


23 thoughts on “Where My Muse Walks

  1. The power of the muse and what a great job you did at conveying it….or wait….was that the muse? Wonderful imagery. I say let the muse rule! Thanks for joining in at OLN.


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