A Poet's Heart

My hand glides across an empty canvass
Dripping in scarlet hues, my pen smoothly gildes
Filling the empty spaces and crevices
With words from where inspiration abides.

My heart, like a somnambulist lies
In dreams, trapped within the muse's lair
In lucid revaries, its spirit flies
Like a bird gliding through the air.

I hear the steady rhythm of my heart
Dancing to the tune of a forgotten nymph
Entranced by the beat I take part
In the dance of creativity and triumph.


I write as  inspiration takes the lead.....
My masterpiece I hope young and old will read.


© Mary Aris, All rights reserved.