A Muse

She'd was both cute and dangerous, and gosh darn did she know it

She'd inspired lovers and labourers, adventures and poets
Not a soul in this world or the next could resist her charms
Let me explain to stop you being vexed and maybe save you from harm

The most transient and beautiful thing, well after life herself see

She'd overthrown more kings than the oracles at Delphi

Her true name is unknown, she's a Goddess in most culture

She helps Fate be sewn, is more persistent than the vulture

She is bedfellows with Destiny, touching the vestibule of hearts of many a lover

Employed tirelessly to make it irresistible to you when you meet your other

That love is not always requited, yet no known person had found a way to refuse

My determination alighted, I made a pilgrimage to the being known as Muse

As a poet in training, I felt it just a part of my learning

My heart should be paining so my skill could be earning

Following the footsteps of Shakespeare, Byron and Keats

Though it was patently clear this path had witnessed many fantastic feets

I drew closer to her throne, thanking of the travesties she'd help cause
Her will was her's alone, and her history gave me pause
She'd caused hearts to break and strive, thrown men from many a cliff
Though through some she became alive, yet others she made lay stiff

My feet took me to hers, and I stared at her in awe
That I could infer one so great could ever be a flaw!
That I could ever have doubted her heart, it put me to shame
The only being worthy of the great Art done in her name

This Being too influential to deny, so beauteous to behold
She would be my path to the sky, as my sense took hold
I remember her danger. I come to sense as I linger
Deciding to stay a stranger, I showed the great Muse the finger

I walked alone long and friendless down the path I once came

Though it seemed sometimes endless, not once I felt shame

While I may have no Muse to aid my poems and writing

I hope to still amuse and, just maybe, sometimes be enlightening

Dedicated amusedly to the rather drunk girl I was chatting to at a party who absolutely refused to believe it was possible to write love poetry without any sort of muse.