To My Muse:
You had a good run--I'll concede it.
And your choice of topics was great.
I think you have chosen vacation
And I will be patient and wait.
But leave me not thus without help--
I need a good push to the end.
This year isn't done! I'm inspired
I need you to come and defend
My thoughts, my ideas, my words,
My eloquence. Help me to write.
Leave me not lacking in words:
Leave me not lost in the night.
I hope you are well--send a postcard.
I miss our old meetings. My pen
Is resting unused on the desktop
If you'll return, let me know when.
The evenings are lonely without you.
Words come and go without flourish.
My meter is lacking and tasteless,
My rhymes more than slightly malnourished.
See? I have nothing to work with.
I need your professional help.
I'm floundering now as a poet.
And nothing much rhymes well with help.
That is all--I won't beg. It's demeaning.
Your cruelty, with passing days,
Increases, embarrassing, shaming
The skills I once had, nigh erased.
Oh muse! Which had raised me to mountains
And took me to valleys and skies,
What made you decide to vacation?
What lowered me thus in your eyes?
I'll sit here alone while the words
Well up in me all unexpressed.
I won't grovel, but you know I need you.
Come back then, when you think it's best.
Love,
Me
postscript
An Epistle for DFC day 25. Merry Christmas! An epistle is a pretty loose form. A poem in letter format, but no other rules apply. The prompt was "hidden inspiration," though in my case, more like "missing inspiration." [link]