I hear her call me now; Calliope.
She dances in rooms made all of windows,
In delicate tones her calls reach sweetly
Stands naked amongst cast off silken bows.

So lightly she leaps among the sunbeams
Her gift bestowed, poetic cache replete
A tiny figure, seen only in dreams
On her face, her happiness shines complete.

I hear her laughter, tinkling playful sounds -
In her mischief, she will often refuse
To part with her gift, of which, she abounds
I’m glad you found me again, little muse.

© Lin Cava