A-MUSE-VACANCY-VERSE
Some poets await inspiration,
they do not intrude.
No they do not trespass.
A hermit-type solitude,
a monk-like meditation,
comes in the interlude
for others who time can't pass
awaiting the Muse's visitation.
YES-IT-IS-WITH-A-HEADY-
GOBLET-GIRL-DROWN-I-DO-IN-WINE
Like a girl in a colossal cup
from which the gods come down to sip,
you swim in wine. I lap you up.
The taste of you on my tongue's tip
is a flavour that is so divine,
though it's your head swims, as drowns mine.
TOWARDS-THE-GOLDEN-SUN-RODE-
HER-OLD-FABULOUS-BEAST-ON-HIGH-
A-DIAMOND-FINE-GIRL
Into the icy air
went the slider, the glider.
Across snow-topped mountains
flew the griffin-rider.
Through icy skies,
her beast a skater,
rode into the sun
the griffin-guarded treasure.
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