A budding writer's collection

Art's muse

She was art's muse,

One look at her,

And the floor gave away to the ocean.

She was art's pride,

In every treble of hers,

A prayer was offered to her dulcet tones.

She was crafted by loving hands,

Art's benevolence echoed in every move

As she swayed in grace,

The stage whispered a sweet hymn in grateful notes.

Brushes of paint reveled,

In her soft touch and her tender strokes

Her undying love for art,

Reflected in the details of every muse of hers.

I would give everything I had to her,

But, I'd hate myself for never reaching her height

Oh, but, for that fleeting moment,

As she lays her ethereal eyes on me,

My life finds its meaning,

My heart believes in flying.