during a quiet, warm twilight
with angels whispering
in our ears

we ran around the dogwood tree
and collected lightening bugs
in a glass jar
that lit up our dark night
our small world

that tiny flickering
mortal fire

living lamps
floating
flashing
in a glass jar

and the angels whispering in our ears
and all we knew was love

And then
there was nothing
and in that nothing
I realised
we could be everything

Hold my hand
before we get too old

My muse keeps taking off on me
Now I’m writing bipolar poetry
When he’s around, it’s flowy and free
But when he’s gone
It’s stuff I don’t like to see
So I need a new muse
But how does one get one at will?
Is there some sort of muse application
To find a replacement
Or do I need to wait for a cosmic event?
Are muses found
Or are they Heaven sent?
I surely know they can be lost
No idea where mine went
Please apply for the job of muse
If you’re also perfect and smart
Clever and romantic
Full of grit, and also heart
And can speak right to my soul
You might be the person to fill this role