HIS MUSE

he was the gatekeeper
she was his muse
he wrote poetry
while she danced in the blue
she wore lace and satin
chenille and silk
her eyes were azure
her skin like milk
she whispered words
that only he understood
as she danced between the trees
in the golden wood
her lips were crimson
her cheeks blushed
when he looked at her
it was a rush
her breasts rose
with each breath she took
he watched her with ardour
as he wrote his book
he was the gatekeeper
she was his muse
he wrote poetry
while she danced in the blue

HIS MUSE

Sally Omar

Joined January 2008

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