My Muse

My Muse

 

Sit please, over buy the window.

Let me see sunlight reflect,

The light I see from within.

Something more than sheen on skin,

Yet seeing you here, do I sin ?

A bounteous array of curves,

So much beauty you can carry.

I let my eyes engross the sight,

Your nakedness will no doubt excite,

If your smile would more invite.

I stroke my brush furiously,

'Cross canvass, driving oils here.

Sworls and lines, curves divine,

Wishing somehow that you were mine,

Not just sitting, paid by time.

Hours pass as I feel you,

The sense of art beneath touch.

Flowing of vibrance and leading light,

Bringing this beauty before my sight,

To glory the image of all that's right.

Oh how gracefully you sit,

Patience of a holy martyred saint.

Divine and comely all at once,

Pointed breasts and legs askance,

To be the road on which I dance.

Finally I've done, complete at last,

You slip on, your clothes again.

But even when your job is done,

You shine as brightly as the sun,

And I'm so grateful that you'd come.