When Mother Nature passes by,
she'll sing her lovely Springtime song,
inspiring me to seek fine words,
toss out all those that don't belong.
She waves her hand and birds take wing.
If her skirt rustles, monarchs flit.
Then suddenly on parchment white--
Voila! A sonnet I have writ.
Where'er her satin slippers tread
gay flowers bow, they dance for her
and I am moved to write new verse
to touch one's heart, emotions stir.
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Writing Prompt |
Write a poem, any length, about your muse. Who or what inspires you to write? |
Author Notes
MOTHER NATURE PERSONIFIED painted by Josephine Wall. Courtesy of Google images.
Mother Nature continues to be my muse though I observe her mostly from afar, through unwashed windows. Still, a day seldom passes that she does not inspire me to write poetry. Today was no exception.
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