A Tribute To My Muse - Sonnet 3
How shall I best convey your being?
You, the spring of all of my creation;
From your eye streams all of my poetic seeing
Yet my truest art stands as but an imitation.
I feel my limitations with searing touch
And feel unworthy of but the merest glance;
For being unable to describe you as such
Is like being ridden through with a lance.
Tell me, fair creature, how to capture you in verse
And I shall take up pen and be enthralled;
Let me but in your presence myself immerse
And the inspiration you grant shall forever be recalled.
For I look on you as my all-inspiring muse,
For allowing your essence with these lines of mine to fuse.