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Saturday, February 13 2010

I would like to think I'm a better painter than a poet but I do enjoy writing an occasional sonnet in the Shakespearian form. So here is a sketch for today with an attempt at poetry to match.

Sketch of Muse by John Entrekin

Who is this Muse?
Who is this dream who gives my art its thrust?
Who is this muse who makes me feel and see?
Is she a lover just to quench my lust?
Oh, sadly no, nor may she ever be.
She's more than simple passion and desire.
A thought of her and images take life.
Her slightest smile will set my heart afire.
A heart where art and craving live in strife.
My fantasies soar higher than my fears.
Yet as Icarus my dreams they fly too high.
And plummet down into a sea of tears
Where reality makes my wishes die.
The images and art she does create
Must satisfy this love and endless wait.

Posted by: John Entrekin AT 10:13 am   |  Permalink   |  1 Comment  |  Email
I know this feeling too well. The muse has even caused me to end things with a lover or two. Those who were jealous, because she is a possessive force isn't she? And dreamers, hopeless romantics like us, know all too well how to whip up the perfect fantasy. There is no one who will match the perfection of our dreams, except one. Her. And she is but a force. She has no warmth, but what we give her...alas. Happy Valentine's Day fellow dreamer.
Posted by Catvibe on 02/14/2010 - 07:48 AM

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