Sonnets

Thy Nagging Muse

Some nights she beacons me to write
as the muse tugs upon thy heart strings
when words come, the mind takes flight
soaring high above as if it had wings.

Then there are days she isn't around
I feel like a tree surrounded by drought.
It's hard not to walk around with a frown
unbearable to take what life dishes out.

Then inspiration returns like a rising sun
blanketing the world with warmth and love
much work is done as the day is clearly won
it can make you feel invincible, sort of.

Writing comes and goes, like waves on a shore
yet despite the torture, I always desire more.