A Poet's Muse

By Sitharaam Jayakumar

Oh I am smitten by a fair maiden,
I am bewitched by her dark wavy curls,
her deep big eyes like limpid pools,
shining brightly like gems and pearls.

When I look at her from far away,
her sweet lips parted in a half smile,
when I see her pretty face shining like the full moon,
love courses through my veins making me swoon.

I dare not tell her she is my fountain of joy,
She is my muse but I am not her fair haired boy.

She walks past me gazing straight ahead,
oblivious to my presence or my love for her,
no love in her heart for me, I am afraid,
I am but a part of a picture for her.

She comes in my dreams like a fairy princess,
a goddess who cometh from the planet Venus,
she drifts past me like a gentle breeze,
that touches me and caresses my cheeks.

I dare not tell her she is my fountain of joy,
She is my muse but I am not her fair haired boy.

Oh how I wish she would pass me a glance,
with a hint of love in those beautiful eyes,
acknowledging the love I feel for her,
filling my heart with joie de vivre.

The days when I do not see her even once,
my heart fills with a nameless fear,
it throbs with unbearable angst,
I ask myself is this the last I have seen of her?

I dare not tell her she is my fountain of joy,
She is my muse but I am not her fair haired boy.

Oh, the pangs of un-reciprocated love,
can completely break a man,
no matter how strong he is or how mighty,
it saps him of his vitality.

One day away she will go with the man of her dreams,
leaving me with an ache that would break my heart,
I hope I have the courage to face that day,
thank God, for now I can worship her from far away.

I dare not tell her she is my fountain of joy,
She is my muse but I am not her fair haired boy.

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