Ply Me with Wicked Words

Well, any will do. This poem was written for dVerse where the inspiration is “muse.” Thank you, Ingrid! Of course, my muse decided to be Puckish, so we went with it.

person writing on notebook while holding coffee mug
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Ply Me with Wicked Words

Dear dear muse of mine where have you decided to recline? Not nearby for certain, I’ve checked behind the curtain. 
Dear dear muse did I neglect the amuse-bouche, you foodie fraulein?
Did I pursue work-work instead of listening to your voice, but what choice have I if food should on the table be? 
Can’t you see, foodie glutton, no mutton for us, nuttin’ is more like it, when you butt in on my work-work? 
I do love you, dear dear muse, although, yes, I accuse you with easily bruised ego of diva style when my delaying you becomes a trial no smile can transcend. 
When I need you to appear, pen in hand or blinking cursor, you disappear, mock me to tears, imbed fears, wearying jeers as years ebb from my life due to your strife, just take a knife to me or politely offer a pittance of empathy or better, a symphony of wicked words.

Categories: dVerse, poems

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9 replies »

  1. You highlight an all too common struggle for the dedicated writer–food or writing; I’ve decided I need to eat, so the muse is unfortunately my side girl.

  2. Oh dear, the perils of ‘work work’: sure to get the Muse upset with you – but what can you do? This was a fun response to the prompt, thank you 🙂

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