I Wonder, Sometimes

I wonder, sometimes, whether I'm diminished
By your absence, by my love for someone far away,
Which leads me to repeatedly describe how much
I long for you. Could I be writing epic verse if you
Were sitting next to me? The answer, either way,
Disturbs. If I wrote of other things, would that
Show that my love had cooled, and you no longer
Had my heart completely in your grip? If what
I wrote remained prosaic, wouldn't that be proof
That love for you is not what limits me? What
Does, then, would be sadly basic: lack of skill,
Or, worse, imagination. Foolish thoughts these
Are. They run the risk of weighing down on you.
That's something that I'd never want. Your lovely
Back and splendid neck should never have
To carry things. I want you here, no matter what.
You are, and will remain, my muse. The products
Of your inspiration, gold or dross, cannot be known,
But I must bear in mind this fact: near or far away,
You nurture me.

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 187 times
Written on 2018-11-30 at 22:08

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Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
No, I think near or far away a muse inspires the same. It is the memories of places in our past that get distorted. I enjoyed reading your internal questioning.